strength comes from weakness
by CuddlyCookie1360
Summary: In which Rayla learns what she stands for, and with it, she changes her perception of humanity.


I.

_Humans are weak, and elves are strong._

Elves are creatures born with magic instead of blood in their veins. They hold connections to life deeper than one could begin to imagine, and they would never dream of harming said life. Actions are not performed for personal benefit; the good of the group comes before the individual. An oath is a permanent marking upon one's character. Promises are not taken lightly, nor are they ever broken. Elves are leaders and not followers; they shape their world alongside the life that resides in it.

Elves are _strong_.

Humans are creatures born from an accident. They take and take because they do not have the power to give. They take because they cannot create; they must use what already exists in order to exist themselves. Destruction follows in their wake; where they walk, life crumbles. Their "humanity" keeps them from doing what has to be done. They can tear one's character apart piece by piece with nothing more than their words and a common goal, but once they hold attachment to something, they will only see the good in that thing no matter its crimes. Humans are selfish and cruel; they shape their world by eliminating anything that stands in their way.

Humans are _weak_.

That is what Rayla was molded to believe from a young age. Humans were exiled for a reason. The strong survive, and the weak don't. Rayla was trained to be strong. She, along with her race, would not be weak like the humans.

Elves are above humans. They can endure large amount of pain and come out on top. A human would collapse because their bodies and minds are too delicate. A human cannot run for long, while an elf will run until they reach their destination, no matter how far. An elf works towards their goal and never gives up. An elf has no room for doubt, while humans are stopped by their own foolish fears. An elf has no fear.

Rayla would someday grow up to be an _elf_. She would serve his majesty, the Dragon King, in exchange for protection for her kind. She would slay any foes who dare to get in her way all for the good of her people. She would lead her kin to victory at the top.

_Humans are weak, and elves are strong._

II.

Elves needed strength now.

Silently, elves of all kinds came together and wept for their fallen king. They huddled close, and in hushed whispers, they discussed revenge. Fire's warmed their bodies and channeled into their spirits as they clenched their fists and rose them against the humans.

Vile humans had invaded their home and slain their monarch. They continued to take from them, and they would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. They were so weak they needed to remove others from positions of power rather than work for it on their own.

Taking out their king didn't make humans strong. It just made them a threat.

And Xadia is known for being excellent at disposing of threats.

The death of the Dragon King hit Rayla hard. Her heart felt heavy, and her spirit was weakened with the news. She sat with Runaan and his lover in their quaint home as the family mourned. Runaan and Tinker didn't shed any tears, as that was viewed as weakness, and the two of them are strong. Rayla did her best not to cry either. Her family is _strong_, that she knew. Elves as a whole are _strong_.

If elves are strong, why did her parents run away?

III.

She'd sworn an oath to Xadia, and here she was about to break it.

Doubt had nagged at her mind during the binding ritual, but Rayla had done her best not to let it show. She had worked for years to get to her position, and she wasn't about to install uncertainty in her abilities in the minds of her teammates. When she let the human guard go, guilt clawed at her heart and tore her insides apart, both from letting her team down and feeling bad about letting him live. Lying about it to her team, especially Runaan, hadn't made her feel any better.

Rayla had a stiff set of morals. Even if she tried to hide it, her heart was kind at its core. She had to keep them from clouding her mind in her line of work. Runaan and the other assassins didn't appear to feel this _guilt_. If she was the only one to have those feelings, then it must be _her_ moral compass that was skewed.

The child looked at her, as the egg casted a sapphire glow on his face. His eyes were big and bright, holding childhood innocence. She was supposed to kill him? She didn't _want_ to, but if she neglected her duty, she would be committing treason against her people. Although her pride wanted to believe she was physically strong, she knew she couldn't protect the two humans if her entire group came for them, especially since neither of the princes seemed to be able to fight. She would have to leave everything she'd ever been taught behind, and for what? Two weak humans and an egg?

No. No, it was more than just an egg, it was the _Dragon_ _Prince_. That egg held the heir to the Xadian crown. It would someday grow up to be a mighty king who was destined to protect their land from evildoers who would dare to threaten it. It was a symbol of hope for Xadia; even after all was supposedly lost, they would emerge triumphant. The egg had survived being stolen and possibly experimented on with dark magic, and it was right in front of her, glowing a brilliant blue.

Maybe the egg could bring peace. It could be a symbol not only for Xadia, but the humans as well. Would she throw that chance away because that path might be difficult? Would she find the strength in herself to take on such a responsibility?

Rayla had made her decision.

IV.

Rayla never begged for anything. She had the power and strength to change things herself, why rely on others?

That changed that night.

"Runaan, _please_," she said, clenching her fists close to her chest. "There has to be another way!" It was naive to think that, but if elves had the power to change things, Rayla would use it. "This is a miracle, a chance for peace!"

"The humans struck down the King of the Dragons!" Runaan reminded. Her mouth clamped closed, as she didn't have an argument. "Justice will not be denied. Now," he put his arm out, "give me the egg."

Rayla's heart hardened with the order. She drew her blade and dropped into a fighting stance, never taking her eyes off Runaan- her _opponent_. "Callum, Ezran, go," she commanded.

"Bu-"

"Just keep it safe."

Although they were humans, Rayla had to trust that they would know what to do. She heard their footsteps fade in the distance as she prepared to face her foe. The clouds around the moon receded, and she knew this would get interesting. It would probably go horribly wrong too, but that was beside the point.

"Don't do this," Runaan advised, giving her a final warning. The light of the moon absorbed into their skin, and the two of them became invisible to outsiders and each other. It was disorienting to not be able to see her own hands and feet. She would have to rely on her other senses now.

Runaan pointed his blade at her. "I will kill you," he threatened.

She did not back down, though she knew it was likely that he would follow through with that threat. "Probably."

With that, the two elves charged at each other. Runaan jumped up to get higher ground, while Rayla ducked down to get more power into her legs. She wasn't sure who swung first but their blades collided, making a sound that grated on her ears.

They separated, but not for long. Runaan swiped at her in a repeated attack, and she was forced to go on the defensive. She leapt onto the raised stones around the edges of the wall to escape her opponent's blade. Runaan followed, and he continued to push her back. She blocked one of his strikes and took the opportunity and swung, though she missed. She ducked under his arm as he charged forwards, and she maneuvered around to his back. His momentum carried him forwards, and she charged after him.

He jumped down to a lower area and she crashed onto him. He blocked her strike from above and she was pushed back. She jumped up again, going over his head and coming down on his other side. He turned to strike, and her blade rammed into his again as they reached a stalemate.

"You're better than this," he said, as the two of them stopped fighting for a few seconds.

Rayla laughed a little. "No, not really. You've had about twenty years more training."

"Not your fighting skills. I mean your character." He kicked her stomach and she flew back and hit the edge of another wall. She turned and swung herself with her hooks, dropping back onto level ground.

Was her character really "better than this?" She knew what she was doing from the moment she put her blades in front of the princes not to kill them, but to protect them. Her kind in Xadia would frown upon her actions. Siding with the humans was a crime worse than murder in their eyes. Would they let that fact slide if the egg was returned? Would she be willing to take a chance that they wouldn't?

'_Yes_,' her mind supplied. If she had even a small opportunity to change her world and make up for her parent's misdeeds, she would take it. If Runaan thought her character was "better than this," maybe he didn't know her at all.

Rayla didn't know him either. She had to stop thinking of him as 'Runaan.' The Runaan she'd known and grown up with was compassionate and protective. He was logical and always two steps ahead. Her Runaan would've understood. Her Runaan would've helped them.

This Runaan was bound by an oath and old views that had been drilled into his head by the masses. This Runaan would eliminate anybody who stood in his way, even if that somebody was someone he thought of as his own daughter.

Even though they were in the middle of a scuffle, even after Rayla had firmly made her choice, she had to wonder. When had the humans become her allies, and her own people her enemies?

Sometime during her thinking, her opposer changed his blades back into a bow. She dodged the arrows he fired from above, and even blocked one with her blade. He separated his bow into two swords again, and swung them around as a silent threat. He'd chop her up into pieces if she got close.

Runaan had called her "the fastest out of any of us." She'd use his praise against him. As long as she stayed out of his reach, he couldn't touch her. As long as she moved quicker than him, he couldn't hurt her.

He dropped down onto the same level as her, pushing off a wall to meet her blades. Her arms burned under the pressure as he used her swords as a stepping stone. He landed a little ways away.

"You saw the egg," she accused, "there's no need for vengeance tonight."

She lunged at him, and they fought again. Rayla swung and swung but her attacks were blocked or avoided, though her enemy couldn't get a proper hit in either. He flipped over her head and she struck, but it was blocked _again_. The situation was becoming hopeless as the two of them faced a deadlock.

Rayla stepped back to catch her breath. She would never be able to beat her challenger in a fight; he simply had much more experience than she did. What was she going to do?

She kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner. She didn't have to _beat_ him, she just had to _stall_ him. If the assassin team was down even just one more teammate, then there was a higher chance of the king surviving.

Unfortunately, her adversary seemed to come to the same conclusion that she did at the same time. He looked to the tower in the distance, and Rayla's heart stopped.

"You're just trying to stall me," he concluded.

She considered herself polite, but in that moment, she could've swore. She leaned on her blade and put a hand on her hip. "Interesting theory. Care to discuss?"

He looked back at her. "Your justice will come later." She could only watch as he jumped off the wall and slid down the roofs of buildings.

"No, wait!" she called, but it was too late. He was gone, and they were officially enemies.

She'd failed the human princes by allowing her opponent to get away and indirectly sentencing the king to death. She'd failed her team by not killing the human guard. She'd failed Runaan by not being his mighty assassin daughter. She'd failed Xadia by breaking her oath, sparing the targets, and siding with the humans. She'd failed elves as a whole by not being strong enough.

Worst of all, she'd failed _herself_ by becoming too weak, and only further proving that she was exactly like her parents.

V.

The adrenaline from her fight with Runaan and conflict with her own emotions was wearing off, and although she didn't trust the humans enough to relax quite yet, a lot of the edge she'd been feeling had disappeared. She tried to reflect on the events of that night, but upon discovering many of her _feelings_ were involved, she dropped the subject. It wasn't healthy to ignore her emotions, but she didn't know what else to do other than bottle them up and hope they went away on their own.

At least now she had a chance to evaluate her new human allies.

The rest of the group was sleeping, but elves needed significantly less sleep, so she could keep watch for most of the night. The princes were definitely not accustomed to sleeping on a surface other than a bed, but she hadn't heard either of them complain once, not even in hushed whispers to each other. She'd been told humans were selfish, and yet the two seemed to understand that returning the egg to Xadia was a huge responsibility.

It was difficult to tell if the child was naive or overwhelming positive. Ezran had blindly believed his brother when he had said everything would be alright, even though all signs pointed to that not being the case. He carried the glow toad close to his chest as if it were his friend and not a magical creature. She could see the good in that, however. If the glow toad could become friends with a human, why couldn't other magical creatures, like elves?

The older prince caught her attention more, since he was more of a mystery. Ezran had laid his cards out on the table for her to see, while his brother seemed to be more distrusting of her. It made her angry, but she supposed it was fair; he'd been subjected to more prejudices than the young king.

For a presumably spoiled prince, Callum seemed to prefer having his nose in a sketchbook rather than the air. When she'd informed him there were two targets he'd claimed to be his brother, an action Rayla hadn't forgotten. It was admirable but stupid, since the band around her wrist would've told her that he was lying. She'd assumed from that encounter that he was confident and knew what he was doing, but that couldn't be further from the truth. He was awkward, shy, and clumsy, an odd combination for a prince. He wasn't aware that he is a mage, but now that he knew, she could only hope he didn't turn his sights to dark magic.

She hadn't know him for long, but something had compelled her to offer to fight her own teammates for him. She had known him for about an hour, and she was already devoted to protecting him and his brother. Rayla was willing to put aside her pride and conflicted emotions and go against her own kin for him. Honestly, she wasn't sure what to make of that.

An old saying was brought to her mind as she looked at the humans. _'Humans are weak, and elves are strong.'_

When Runaan had said it, it sounded true. All the elves in Xadia agreed with the statement. They were her kin; they wouldn't lie to her. If everybody said it, then it was correct. It was just another fact. The sky is blue, grass is green, _humans are weak and elves are strong._

_Did_ it still hold some truth? She felt ashamed for thinking that when she thought of the princes. They were untrained, gullible, and helpless. The child was more of a burden than a benefit. Rayla's morals and pride would never allow her to leave the young human behind, but if he got injured, she would be lugging around dead weight. Callum didn't even trust her, so who knows what he would do if something bad happened. She trusted her ability to be able to protect them if something went wrong, but what if she couldn't be there? What if she wasn't fast enough, or strong enough?

The binding around her wrist shifted as she moved, and she pushed her thoughts aside. She knew it was unhealthy to ignore her feelings as much as she did, but in her mind, it was better than confronting emotions she didn't know how to face.

Rayla could strike down a man twice her size with nothing more than her blades and her wits. She could face off against an opponent with double her experience and skill and remain uninjured. She could be flung into the air and land back on her feet; if she was thrown far away she would come rushing back with determination hotter than a fire and knifes sharper than an elves senses.

But when it came down to emotions, she treaded as careful as someone would on thin ice. She couldn't slide her way through her spirit, and her pride clung desperately to the chance that everything would work itself out if she ignored it. She was blinded by a huge superiority complex that left her unable to deal with her own emotions as well as others. For an empathetic assassin, she was ignorant when it came to sensibilities, and she knew it well.

Rayla was powerful, but Rayla was not strong.

VI.

"It's time to hit the road," Rayla ordered, tossing the primal stone back to the mage-in-training. She was thoroughly annoyed with the prince, and she could still feel electricity shoot through her even as she walked away. She did also feel a slight twinge of satisfaction, knowing that the human was making steps towards being able to fend for himself on his own. Her ego squashed those feelings, however.

"Road? Why wear ourselves out walking on a road when we can let the _river_ do the walking?"

Rayla froze at the suggestion. Nope. There was no way she was getting on a boat to go anywhere. She didn't care how logical it was, it wasn't going to happen. Her annoyance flared even more. "Nope. Say goodbye to the boat. We go by land from here."

"But why?" Callum questioned, and she wished he'd be quiet and agree with her for once. "The river is going the right direction and moves much faster than we ever could on foot." He gestured to his little brother. "I mean, look at those legs."

Ezran tuned into the conversation and turned to face them. "What? I have nice legs," he said innocently.

Rayla hid her smile behind her pride. "We're walking. That's final."

She turned to continue on the journey and leave the disagreement there with no room to argue, and Callum jogged to catch up to her. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, "Is there maybe another reason you don't wanna take the boat? Something you're not telling us?"

Oh, how he infuriated her! Why couldn't he do what she said? "No. There's no secret reason," she denied.

Callum put a hand under his chin. "So, wait." He laughed at her. He laughed at her! Rayla stared him down. "Are you, like, this back-flippin', tree-climbin', sword-stabbin' elven warrior, but scared of a little splish-splashin'?"

Rayla's ego bursted at the accusation. She raised a finger to object, but Ezran beat her before she could. "Aw, that's cute."

That was the final straw. Rayla was not cute, she was a stone-cold, sarcastic, battle-driven assassin. Now she was annoyed _and_ her pride was damaged. "Fine, we'll take the stupid boat!" She stormed off angrily.

She'd regret giving in later when the sickness kicked in. Callum had given a temporary distraction by asking her questions, but his good intentions were squashed when he brought up her parents. She'd lied and said they were dead to avoid the question. She didn't want to hear about those cowards. She didn't want to be compared to them either.

She had turned away to look at her hands when Callum worriedly said, "So, this might not be the best time to bring this up, but are you sure you're not scared of the water?"

Was this another attempt to cheer her up, because it wasn't working. She had enough people doubting her abilities, including herself. "I'm done with questions," she snapped.

The eldest brother stammered, "I know, it's just... the water's about to... look!" he shouted.

That got her attention. She turned her head and her eyes widened at the sight before her.

They were headed straight towards a waterfall. Her stomach twisted, thinking about the drop that was right ahead of them, and they were going_directly towards it_, and _oh god_-

She leaned back reflexively. "Pull the boat over!" she commanded.

"I don't think there's time."

"Pull it over!" She pleaded. She pressed herself against the wooden seat and let her pride go in the moment of desperation. "I admit it! I hate the water." Trying not to lose her courage, she continued, "I'm afraid of it. It makes me sick. All the bad feelings."

The humans were definitely concerned now. She didn't have time to regret what she said, because Callum laughed in excitement and came to sit next to the others. "It's too late, hang on!"

He helped her up and they sat in the back. Callum smiled, and Rayla wondered if he was an adrenaline junkie. Ezran seemed mildly concerned but overall pretty neutral. Rayla felt terror, and her heart was about to leap out her chest.

They went over the edge, and her organs dropped. She screamed and held onto the side and Ezran's arm as they hit the bottom, stopping abruptly. The boat spun and water splashed against her back. She hated it. She hated it so _much_, and she'd never hated anything more, and if she hadn't regretted her decision before _she sure did then_.

"Hold tight!" Callum yelled, happiness in his voice. How could he be enjoying this?

They crashed against a rock and bounced off, making Ezran yelp. Callum hollered as they sped down the river. They bumped into something and went airborne for a second, causing a wave to go over the boat and get the team damp.

Rayla thought that was it, but then they were thrown into the air again as they went over _another_ waterfall. They landed and she hit her elbow against the side of the boat. They spun into a calm lake; Ezran fell over from dizziness.

It was over. She was shaking like a leaf and her elbow burned and she was soaking wet. She felt like a disgrace.

Callum perked up. "You faced your fear. Do you feel better about water now?"

His voice grated on her ears. She stumbled over to the side of the boat. "I have never felt worse about water."

He hummed. "Well, anyway, we're making great time."

Rayla was about to snap at him for being so cheery when Ezran asked, "Hey guys? Does anyone else see Bait?"

That spurred them into another dilemma. They found him when he tumbled down into the water after them, colored red. Ezran had called for the creature and him swam over to them. He plucked him out the water and the group sighed in relief.

"What a disaster," the elf groaned.

Callum turned around. "I know, right! My socks are all soggy. A disaster! A soggy disaster!"

Rayla raised an eyebrow at the strange boy in front of her, but her eyes were caught by a glow under the seat. "Uh, Callum?"

The cube gleamed blue and made a pulsing sound. She scooted away from the magic object in case it was dangerous, and the prince picked it up. "Hey, Ocean Rune. I've never seen it light up before."

He jiggled it around and found that it made a louder noise when he put it closer to the water. "Wait, why would the Ocean Rune be..."

Rayla realized first, and she stood up to prepare for a fight. Could they go five minutes without something bad happening? A shadow loomed underneath the boat, and a creature jumped out right below them, sending the group and their boat flying. They screamed in surprise.

"Oh, I get it!" Callum yelled, and if Rayla wasn't busy screaming, she would've mocked him for being dense and not realizing it sooner. The princes fell back into the water, but Rayla was sent hurdling further away towards land. Her instincts kicked in and she managed to roll into a slightly softer landing.

She immediately felt better from not being in water. "Ah, sweet, solid land, we meet again." She kissed the ground, but perked up when she heard the monster roar and Callum gasp for air.

She stood and watched the scene. The creature moved towards Bait, and she shouted a warning, "Guys, behind you! Bait is in trouble!"

"What?"

"Bait needs help!"

"Bait sneezed kelp?" Ezran questioned, struggling to keep himself afloat and hear her.

"No. She says, 'Bait's knees smell.'" Rayla couldn't tell if he was joking or actually thought she said that.

"Well, that's just mean," Ezran mumbled.

"No!" She yelled, growing irritated. She cursed the humans for having terrible hearing. The elf could only watch as Bait was thrown into the air and caught inside the monster's mouth. She flinched. With the two princes caught in the water, Rayla was the one left standing. "It's down to me, isn't it? Of course it is."

She supposed it was always down to her. She _was_ the group's unofficial guardian, seeing as how she was the only one with combat training. She looked towards the ground again as she got into position. "Goodbye, sweet, solid land. I barely knew you."

She leaped up into the tree and ran along a branch. The assassin launched herself high into the air, landing on a floating log. She bobbed up and down and unconsciously snuggled closer to the solid object. Hyping herself up, she said, "Come on, Rayla, do it for the frog." She frowned. "The grumpy frog that hates you."

Rayla sighed. "Here goes."

She stood up as the log spun. Getting into a proper stance, she drew her blades. She sprang up onto the back of the creature and ran to its tail. The elf grabbed Bait as they were thrown into the air once again. They hurdled down towards the water, and she took a deep breathe in. Her back stung as they submerged, and she found them right in front of the creatures mouth.

She was unable to swim away, and the monster closed its jaws over them. Looking around, she saw an opening in its teeth, and she slipped through it and held onto the creature by driving her knife into its skin.

They returned to the surface after a few seconds, but then they were brought back into the water. The creature roared and dove up again and crashed back down. They weren't above water long enough for Rayla to get away, but they weren't underwater enough to drown.

They popped up again just as Callum ordered Rayla to jump. She saw him draw the lightning rune and dread crept up her throat. If he was going to do what she thought he was going to do, he'd have to time it perfectly, and that was unlikely, seeing as how he didn't know the full spell. "But you don't know how to-"

"Just jump!" he yelled. Rayla could hear the determination in his voice, and not having a choice, she trusted the human to do what he did best: the impossible. She swung herself and Ezran's friend up into the air as Callum drew power from the sphere and put his finger to the water.

The electricity crackled through the water and the creature roared as the lightning injected into its veins. It fell over with a splash not a moment too soon, as Rayla and Bait landed in the water only a second after. She expected the water to still be charged with electricity, but to her surprise and delight, it wasn't. She poked her head up above the surface as dead monster remains floated to the top of the lake.

How did the human manage to do that? He wasn't a trained mage; he didn't even know the whole spell! Yet, he managed to cast an incomplete spell without it backfiring. It shouldn't have been possible, since mages needed a rune and release word to cast a spell, but he was fine without one. Not only that, but the spell didn't coat the water afterwards, meaning it was controlled with deadly precision. Just how much was Callum capable of?

She didn't have time to dwell too much on it. She dragged herself and Bait over to land just as the sun started to set. Standing up, she began to wring her clothes and hair out.

"Rayla, you saved Bait!" Ezran exclaimed in awe. "Without you, he would have been..." he covered Bait's ears, "fish food."

For once, Callum regarded her without teasing her. "That was brave, Rayla."

The praise boosted her self-esteem, but she remembered their earlier conversation. She had admitted she was afraid. Her people were fearless. Fear and doubt were things they didn't have time for. Fear made you weak, and elves were undoubtably strong. She had already betrayed her people by breaking her oath, she didn't need to go against their philosophy too. "No, I already told you, I'm afraid of water."

"I know." Callum said. "That's why doing what you did was so heroic."

That didn't make much sense. She had been terrified! That wasn't strong, that was weak! Couldn't he see? The compliment still added to her ego, however, and Rayla was still polite. "Oh, thanks."

"Why wouldn't you just tell us about your fear before?" Ezran asked. "It's okay to be afraid of things."

_'It's okay to be afraid of things?'_

Growing up, she'd been taught that fear was a sign of weakness. She couldn't believe anything else to be true; her whole life would be a lie. Elves were strong and powerful, so there was no need for such a "human" emotion. Humans were weak after all, right?

Yet, she glanced at Callum. The boy was an untrained, young human, but he had done something most elven mages couldn't do. Incomplete spells always backfired, but he managed to save her and Bait when even _she_ couldn't. Sure, the prince wasn't the most physically fit, but when it came to magic, he was a genius.

'_Humans are weak, and elves are strong_.'

Was everything she had grown up believing a lie? Could she accept that? She looked at her reflection in the water. She noticed her pointy ears, small horns, sharper facial features and plum markings, and she wondered '_do those make me strong_?'

_No_.

"I guess I was afraid of being afraid," she said at last.

"Well, that's kind of circular," Callum remarked. "But, hey, worth noting: you're not afraid of being afraid of being afraid."

"That's deep, but stupid." It was also untrue.

"The thing is," she continued, "Moonshadow elves aren't supposed to show fear. Ever."

She expected the princes to agree, or point out how fear was a weakness. Instead, Ezran said, "That's sad."

"It's our way," the elf replied, feeling slightly offended at him disagreeing with her people. She knew that the ideal was to protect them from not being strong enough to survive. If they fell prey to their emotions, the species wouldn't be able to continue to prosper. She supposed it was sad, though. Bottling up their feelings and not communicating could lead to even worse problems. It already _was_ giving her problems. She never would've thought the way she did if she had been able to discover more of herself.

Poor communication would lead to distrust in the group. Rayla wanted her secrets and privacy, but despite what her pride said, she wanted the princes' friendship more. Could they become friends? Would they be willing to try? Was _she_ willing to try?

She was.

"My parents aren't really dead, but I wish they were," she revealed. It was a dark thought, but it was true. She grew angry even at the thought of them. They had tainted her family's name, and now Rayla was viewed as a failure even though she had nothing to do with her parent's betrayal. She yearned to prove everyone wrong, but she couldn't if their opinions of her had already been formed. Her life had been torn, and they hadn't given her a second thought. "They're cowards."

"What do you mean?" Callum asked softly.

She released the tension in her shoulders. "My parents were part of an elite force, the Dragon Guard, eight elven warriors chosen to protect the egg of the Dragon Prince. Storm dragons only lay an egg every thousand years. So that egg is so rare and precious."

She pulled her hands into fists. "But when the humans came and killed the Dragon King, the Dragon Guard, my _parents_, failed in their duty. They ran away." She blinked tears out of her eyes before they could fall. "I'm so ashamed."

Callum was the one to step forward and put his hand on her shoulder, an action she wasn't anticipating. "Rayla, I'm so sorry for what humans did."

She wanted to assure him he didn't need to feel guilty. He wasn't the one who murdered Xadia's protector. Her burning desire to prove herself took over before she could. "So, you see, that's why I have to make things right. When I first came here, I was on a quest for revenge. But the moment I saw that egg, everything changed. Now, this is a journey of redemption."

Rayla would prove them wrong. She'd prove the elves in her village that had refused to trade with her, the children that threw insults at her, her superiors who distrusted her wrong. Rayla was not her parents, and she never would be.

Callum hugged his brother close. "We're in this together."

The group looked back to the water, where the overturned boat drifted by. She gestured to it as it passed. Feigning worry, she said, "Oh no! Our boat seems to be drifting away. It slipped just out of my reach. What will we do now?"

Feeling accomplishment for not having to deal with that problem anymore, she prepared to continue on foot. Her plans were hindered when the boat came back. She grimaced, but was saved unexpectedly by Callum. He pushed the boat back in the direction it was going before, which was away from them. He sighed and waved. "Goodbye, boat."

She smiled, feeling like she had made progress with the humans. "Thank you."

Her joy was shattered as her white binding tightened around her wrist, a painful reminder of her betrayal. Callum noticed and inquired, "So, what's the deal with your wrist ribbon thing? Does it mean something?"

"Oh, uh..." she trailed off. She tried to muster up the courage to explain it, but the words died in her throat. She couldn't bear to hurt the princes, not after she'd gone through so much to protect them. She couldn't save them from their own emotions, and she couldn't save them if _she_ was the problem. "Nah. It's just decorative."

"Decorative?"

"Yeah. Moonshadow elf thing, I guess."

Callum hummed and titled his head in obvious disbelief. He decided not to press the matter, feeling like he had already pried enough that evening. "Okay."

As they turned away, Rayla recounted that she had learned some things that day. One: Callum was a lot stronger than he looked and even he believed. She'd have to ask him about his magic later. Two: feeling fear wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Personally, Rayla didn't agree with that, but it was still important enough to remark.

The most crucial point, however, was three: Rayla was a liar.

VII.

Ezran rubbed his hand over the cold, dim egg. They didn't have much time left to get the egg to the miracle healer. What happened if the healer wasn't able to do anything? They couldn't let the egg die; Rayla wouldn't allow it. Her new mission was her one chance of proving herself, and she wouldn't let it slip through her fingertips, though her hand might drop it again anyways.

"It seems to be hanging in there," she observed. The glow faded for a second. "Barely."

She supposed they were similar. She was also barely holding on. Her hand weakened and burned with every passing second, as did her resolve. Soon she would be down in hand count and morale. She was clinging to a thread of hope, but the thread was snapping and her grip was breaking. They both needed a miracle.

Ezran hugged the egg close. "I'm so sorry I messed up the plan," he said, both to her and the egg.

"Ah, you should cut yourself a break." Her legs dangled over the edge of the branch. "Everyone messes up sometimes. Or in my case, all the times."

Rayla was a failure. She hadn't even _tried_ to help them slay the monster, and she let her morals be a barrier again. It seemed as though she was useless when she tried to do something and when she didn't.

"What are you talking about?" Ezran asked, concerned but also intrigued.

She smiled sadly. "Trust me, if the plan hadn't gotten messed up when Bait flashed, I'm sure it would have flopped when it was my turn."

"Are you kidding?" The child exclaimed. "From what I can tell, you're awesome at everything."

Her heart swelled at his admiration of her, though she wasn't sure she deserved it. She shrugged smugly. "Well, it's true. I am pretty awesome at everything."

Her posture dropped. "Right up until the moment when it really matters. And that's when I just..." she put her hand in a fist and mimicked an explosion, "poof, screw things up."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," she replied. No one had ever asked about her feelings before, so she wasn't quite sure how to explain them. They all made assumptions and preventions, but nobody attempted to help her solve the problem. The other elves had provided bandages but not proper assistance, and it was catching up with her.

She owed it to the prince, however, to at least _try_ to explain. She collected her thoughts as Bait groaned. "I hesitate, think too much, get confused about the right thing to do. And the next thing I know, I failed."

All the elven assassins-in-training had to take ethics lessons. The goal was to have them be able to identify emotions in themselves to crush them down on a mission or find them in others to exploit. Rayla's problem was that she wasn't able to block her emotions; the best she could do was bottle them up until they boiled over and she took them out on something, usually herself. That only lead to more frustration, and it became an endless cycle.

She turned and laid down on the branch to wait and think. The sky was dreary and her clothes stuck to her skin. The air was empty and covered by a thick layer of gray. The elf felt it reflected her mood perfectly.

"The morning I came to your castle," she said, "my team was discovered by a human guard. It was _my_ job to chase him down and stop him."

His eyes were burned into her memory. The dark irises held terror, something she knew all too well. The human was terrified, and Rayla was the cause of it. Her knifes had felt heavy in her hands, and her legs were shaky.

"But when I caught him..."

'_Please_!'

His voice had shook, as did her hands. The rain that soaked into her outfit burned but not with fire, and the ice around her heart melted. The human had a _family_. He had parents, possibly siblings, friends, maybe a lover waiting for him to return. He had goals and desires, thoughts and feelings, future friends to make and sights to see. Much like her, he held the desire to survive, to live another day and face what challenges came next. He had a _life_, and she was struck by the weight she would carry if she took it.

"...he looked up at me, and he was so _afraid_."

Rayla had felt like a monster.

"And then I just let him go."

She backed away, and he turned and ran. Her team had been counting on her; she had doomed them all. The assassin didn't know which was worse: almost killing a person, or betraying her kind. It hadn't been clear then. It still wasn't clear now.

"I don't know why." She did, somewhere deep down inside. When she thought about it her heart shattered a little more, so she left it to simmer and sort itself out.

"Because you felt for him," Ezran explained.

"But he was a human," she reminded, "my enemy!"

'_Humans are weak, and elves are strong_.' Yet, Rayla failed in her duty. She'd have to pay the price someday if her hand wasn't enough. Her people would never accept her return should they make it to Xadia. She would be viewed as a coward and most likely convicted of treason. Zym wouldn't be enough to stop it; she knew that, buried under layers of denial, Rayla would not be accepted back into her home. Sometime during her mission, humans had become her allies, and elves had become her enemies.

"Yeah, but then you saw he was scared. And you knew he was a person, just like you."

'_Humans are weak, and elves are strong_.' Elves are magical creatures who provided for life in exchange for survival. Humans were creatures who devoured living things for their own benefit. Humans were selfish and cruel, while Elves were calm and efficient.

Though Runaan had fought her, his daughter, the person he'd grown up with and cherished, the person he had laughed with and confided in. He'd thrown her a birthday celebration, because he knew she wanted one even if she didn't say anything. He gave her honey and berries when she was upset, because he knew she needed to be alone but he wanted her to know he was there. Runaan had cared for her, cried with her, felt with her,_loved_ her, and he had been prepared to _kill_ her when she got in his way.

Humans were upfront with their abuse. They squashed creatures and sucked the life out of them to perform unnatural magic that didn't exist in Xadia for a reason. They stormed into the Dragon King's lair and shot him down as their soldiers mowed down her kin on the front line. They lied and stole but they fought for their survival just like anyone else.

Elves hid their tricks. They manipulated from the side; the effects of their control wouldn't be present until years later. They convinced others that they only destroyed what they had to, but when they did fight, they did so mercilessly and devastatingly. They bribed and hid the truth and caught her in their web of lies, but they cared for their kin deeply.

They were all just people, trying to get by in a world on fire with nothing more than the people at their side and tools in their hands. They all fought and refused to give up; they all loved and cared for their families; they all strived towards a goal and pulled the strings necessary to get there. Human and elf. Weak and strong.

People.

Yet they had different names.

"That shouldn't have mattered," she insisted. "I had a job to do."

She sat up and cried, "Do you realize I'm an assassin who's never killed anyone?"

Rayla was a failure of an elf. She couldn't keep her team from perishing, she couldn't keep the princes from danger, she couldn't even protect the Dragon Egg. _She_ was the one who dropped it in the lake. _She_ was the one who endangered Ezran's life. _She_ was the one who got them into this mess, and _she_ was the one who did _nothing_ to get them out of it. Her moral code was a barrier, and she didn't try to break it. She didn't try. She didn't _try_, and it was going to get her friends killed _again_ and she'd be abandoned when they realized it was her fault and she'd be _alone_ _again_-

"Uh, I think that's a good thing."

How could her failure be a good thing? She was incompetent and childish, clinging to threads that no longer existed. She built up walls of sarcasm and nonchalance while she broke inside them where no one could see, and if someone came knocking she'd close them in and build up more walls.

But she was moral. She was kind and considerate, always taking into account what everyone else wanted before what she did. She connected to people through her feelings and reached out to them, because if she couldn't help herself then she could at least help others and Rayla would be damned if she lived life without a purpose.

Maybe the bad didn't outweigh the good. Having flaws didn't necessarily make her weak, they made her a person. Rayla was a person, just like everyone else.

And that was okay.

"And by the way, thanks for failing at your mission. I like being alive."

"I'm glad you're alive, Ezran," she spoke softly. For a child with no experience, Ezran was certainly wise. He'd showed her so many things and helped her understand that her people may be wrong. He had comforted her when she was unsure, and he smiled and laughed with her later. He'd opened up her eyes to a whole new world beyond her pride and prejudices. She was itching to explore. He'd make an excellent king someday.

Humans died out too quickly. The prince still had a successful life ahead of him, and Rayla would protect that for as long as it took. "Knowing you is definitely worth losing a hand for."

She meant it.

"That's the weirdest, nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he confessed.

"Well, who knows," the elf said, "maybe this is my unlucky hand, so when it falls off, my luck will change!"

"That's horrible." It was naive too, but clinging to a small sliver of hope was better than having none at all. Plus...

"Funny, though?"

"Funny and horrible."

VIII.

"There's a little thing called irony," Rayla explained, "where just as you say one thing like you're really sure about it, that's when the opposite happens."

"Nah," Callum said, flicking his wrist. "Maybe that's how things work in stories, but in the real world-"

He was cut off as the leach appeared behind them, towering over the group and screeching. How ironic. They scattered as it slammed its head down, hoping to catch one of the unlucky in its jaws. It slithered after Ellis, who was hitching a ride on the back of Ava. They managed to stay ahead, but they rode over to the trio and brought the monster with them. Rayla pulled Ezran and Bait to the side with her as they passed, which only split them up further.

Ezran yelped in terror as the beast cut them off. It roared in their faces and opened its jaws. Rows and rows of teeth lined its mouth, and it's tongue wiggled, ready to eat them. They screamed and dodged its attack. The leech followed Rayla as she ran towards a rock. She flipped up and pushed off the stone, landing on the other side of the monster, which quickly turned to meet her. She escaped by climbing up high onto a dead tree branch.

It snaked after Ezran next, who wouldn't have as much luck outrunning it. Luckily, Ellis snatched him by the collar and pulled him onto Ava, who was much speedier. "That way!" Ellis ordered, steering the wolf away.

"Focus! We can do this! The plan!" Callum shouted from the relative safety on the sidelines. "Ez and Bait, you're up!"

Ah yes, the plan. The one Rayla knew she would mess up somehow. She'd have to step up.

Ezran clenched his eyes shut and held up Bait.

"_Flash_!"

The glow toad flared light, and the monster roared as it was blinded. Rayla held a hand out and turned away to avoid the glare and being blinded herself. The leech writhed in pain.

Callum whooped. "Yes! Ellis and Ava!"

"_Woof_!"

Ava barked, creating a sound distraction as the duo zigzagged around the beast. The monster was confused by the dog's sounds and girl's mimics.

"Perfect!" Callum complimented. He held his primal stone in his hand. "My turn for..."

"_Zap_!"

He drew the lightning rune in the air. It glittered blue, and the lightning inside the sphere shot into his palm. "Here goes nothing. _Fulminis_!"

He pushed the lightning out into a strike that hit the leech, sending it into another fit of pain. It seized and squeaked, convulsing violently as it toppled over. It was a horrid sight for her to see, even though she knew they'd die if they didn't do something. The monster's screams filled the air and her eyes widened.

Callum took delight in his spell working, or at least, she hoped that was what he was happy about. "Yes! Yeah! Get zapped! Oh, get zapped by the zap hand! My zap hand, yeah!"

Rayla had to cut off his moment. The mission wasn't over yet. "Can you be astounded later?"

"Right! Uh, Rayla, finishing move. You got this! _Slash_!"

Did she have it? As she crept closer, her heart beat out of her chest and her knees wobbled. Every sense in her mind was screaming at her to let the creature be, to hightail it out of there, to end its suffering. It thrashed in pain, and she put aside her turmoil and drew her blade. This was it.

But then, the creature suddenly rose and yelled. She instinctively stepped back in surprise, which caused her to trip over her own two feet. She had been right all along. She was going to mess it up, and the princes would hate her, and she'd fail _another_ family.

She knew they called out for her, but she didn't hear them as her panic drowned them out. The leech howled and she scrambled for her blade. It raised its head to attack, and Rayla almost missed the handle of her knife. The leech squirmed and lunged, and it was going to kill her because she wasn't strong enough. Rayla wasn't fast enough or sharp enough, _Rayla_ wasn't enough, and it's head came rushing down to meet her so she put her blade up in defense and she was _dead_-

Then her dagger sliced through the creatures skin and tore through its muscles, cutting through it like butter. The monster wailed but its cries were too weak to be threatening, and the leech collapsed _dead_ on the ground.

She couldn't catch her breath, even after the princes and commoner came running to her as she doubled over in exhaustion. "That was too close," she babbled. Her vision swarmed and the mage in front of her wasn't quite in focus as she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Rayla had_killed_ something. Her moral compass was going haywire since she couldn't accept the fact that Rayla had _ended something's life_. It didn't matter that it was trying to kill them. Rayla had _killed_ something, and now she could never go back. She couldn't keep her mouth from rambling, "If that thing was a split-second faster I would have been..."

She felt her skin crawl and she jerked her leg in a panic. She was being attacked _again_ after just nearly being slain not even a moment ago. Her legs gave out and she fell to the side. Something crept up her legs onto her torso and the elf felt violated and caged in. Panic worked into her chest as the adrenaline from before hadn't faded yet. Her flesh didn't feel like her own anymore, and she couldn't force air into her lungs because she'd forgotten how, and Rayla wasn't in control and she was _scared_-

"Help! Help me!" She cried, writhing on the ground in alarm. The crawling moved up to her arms and ran through her strands of snowy hair. Black dots swam around the edges of her vision as she flailed her limbs, and she was _dying_ and she knew she was dying because why else would her lungs be closing and a rapid beating be taking over her mind?

She felt wind rush past her, which stole what remaining breath she had away from her lungs but she pushed on. The creeping feeling subsided as the cool breeze fluttered to a stop. She blinked and found herself staring at Callum's shoes and she observed how _nothing was there_. The danger and pure terror she'd felt moments ago felt unreal.

"Yes!" The eldest prince exclaimed. He chuckled. "How 'bout that? I knew '_whoosh_' should have been part of the plan."

Rayla grit her teeth, annoyance taking the place of fear. Time to suppress her emotions.

IX.

"We can't trust them!"

Callum sighed, "Look, I get it." Did he really? Even she wasn't sure why she felt such a distaste for them; were her prejudices catching up with her, or were her instincts being truthful? "You don't like Claudia. She tried to kill you multiple times. But remember, until today, she thought you were trying to hurt me and Ezran."

His close-mindedness frustrated her. Yeah, the reason she was pushing so hard against the siblings was because she didn't like them because they tried to kill her. That made _a lot_ of sense. She tried to kill the princes, and yet they were good friends now!

Or at least, she thought they were friends now.

"Ugh!" Rayla groaned, sitting next to the human on the bed. "That's not it, Callum. I know they're lying. I know, because..."

She averted her gaze. Oh, how she wanted to spill the secret, but she didn't want to hurt him even more. Her parent's betrayal had ruined her; she could only imagine how it would feel to Callum, especially since he seemed to be close with the king. Could she wreck that? Could she be the cause of his emotional distress?

Not telling him was giving _her_ emotional distress. She felt terrible for lying, and the guilt clawed at her stomach. Sometimes, she couldn't bear to even look at the prince. She was confused on what was the right answer, and she had no guidance. She was wandering alone in the dark without a light, hoping that by some miracle she came across a candle. Rayla was lost.

It would hurt to tell him. It would hurt so _bad_, and her heart would be shredded because she'd lose the people she cared about again. But keeping it from him would hurt worse. It already _was_ hurting.

Rayla swallowed thickly, knowing she had to say the words before they died in her throat. She summoned her courage. "Well, because-"

She was interrupted by a sing-songy voice. "Knock knock!"

Claudia stood in the doorway, waving sheepishly. Her instincts told her to run before she performed some freaky magic on her, but common sense made her stay. Next to her, Callum brightened, and Rayla grit her teeth. She thought the prince would leave her once she told him about the king, but what she didn't realize was that he already had.

She still tried to convince him later though. She found him sketching in his book, and she interrupted him. "We can't trust Soren and Claudia."

"I thought we talked about this."

"But I have proof now," Rayla stated. She knew Callum cared about his brother more than anything, so she was sure he'd open his eyes and come around once he heard of what Soren did, well, _tried_ to do. Was she being manipulative? Maybe, but she _had_ to get him to see. She didn't want him to get hurt.

"Soren built a zippy line thingy for Ezran," the elf explained, "but it was a trap. He _wanted_ there to be an accident."

"Wait," Callum said, "how do you know that?"

"The peg was kind of loose!"

"Kind of?"

"It was definitely loose," she insisted. "Which is why Soren tightened it before he went down."

The human held up a hand. "So, it was loose, but then he tightened it?"

She put a hand to her temple. "Callum, I know I'm not explaining it well," because she wasn't; Rayla had always had a hard time expressing her thoughts, "but you just have to look me in the eyes and trust me."

Or, use some cognitive thought, but she wasn't sure the human was capable of that. She could see it was a bit of a stretch, but it made sense; Soren was acting nervous, and her suspicions rose. She supposed he just had to be there.

But he wasn't. Her lackluster explanation didn't convey enough across, and she had to rely on Callum to trust her. Could he do that? Rayla had saved his life multiple times, but when they first met, she _was_ trying to kill him. She herself had a difficult time building up relationships with people. Callum seemed more naive, but he certainly didn't trust easily; it had taken a few days and life threatening scenarios to get him to stop seeing her as just an elf. Did he trust her? Did she trust him?

Callum pushed himself off the chair and leveled with her. His stare bore into hers. The green in his eyes was electrifying, and she had been shocked. She tried to push her feelings into her gaze, all the desperation, all the guilt, she had to get him to see it. She had to _trust_ that he would dig deep enough to find it. His brows furrowed and he seemed conflicted.

"I can see you believe it," he spoke at last. Her spirits rose. He turned his back to her. "But I've know Soren and Claudia for years." He braced himself over the table, contemplating.

She reached a hand out for support, a last ditch attempt to get him to _understand_. She tried to understand _him_. He was _Callum_. He was the boy that would give his life for his little brother to have a better one, without seeing that Ezran wouldn't _have_ a life without him. He was the person who gave his gift for the good of the world, despite it leaving him without a place. He was the human who stumbled to find his worth as the one thing he was finally skilled at had been ripped from his grasp. He was brave, determined, selfless, and humble. He was Callum. He was _her_Callum.

He was the one Rayla chose to lie to, to deceive, under the excuse that she was "_protecting_" him. He wouldn't accept that if he knew. No story could excuse that if he found out. Even if she _were_ protecting him, that was just more lies. She didn't want to see him hurt, and that was selfish. That had created a divide. _Rayla_ had created a divide.

"You and I don't have that yet."

Her gut twisted, and her heart shattered into pieces. He didn't trust her, and she _didn't_ understand why. She'd never had friends, much less friends her age. She'd never had to work out these sorts of chinks, and she didn't know how. Rayla wasn't good with emotions. She couldn't tell what he was thinking; half the time she couldn't tell what _she_ was thinking. If she couldn't do that much, did they have trust? Her hand was outstretched, but his back was turned.

The mage had wrapped her heart in vines, cracking the ice around it but squeezing it tight. He stepped through the cracks but didn't offer his hand. He showed he was there, but he didn't reach forwards to act on it. She'd clung to their friendship like a lifeline, and she was drowning in the emotions he stirred up for some reason. She felt most like herself around him. He made her lay down her armor and show him her true colors, but he'd taken that and toyed with it. She tried to connect with him, and he left her hanging.

She dropped her hand, letting it fall to the side. It was fine. She didn't need his trust anyways. He was a selfish, cruel human, who said things without thinking about her feelings and played her heart like a harp. He didn't deserve her trust, and it didn't matter to her. Nope, not one bit. She certainly wasn't begging for him to believe in her when she couldn't believe in herself. She didn't need him; she was perfectly dandy on her own. She could bottle this up and store it away along with all the other emotions she didn't deal with. She didn't care, and she didn't need him. Rayla was strong.

She didn't feel very strong as she walked out the room.

X.

"So, Rayla," Villads started. He chuckled. "That's an unusual name, isn't it?"

Her heartbeat sped up, and she feared he might have figured out her secret. Though, she supposed she wasn't exactly _hiding_ it, per se, but just not bringing it up. "Oh!" she exclaimed. She tried to play her nervousness off by laughing. "Yeah, uh, my _human_ parents had an unusual taste in names..." she smirked and leaned against the rail, "Villads with a silent D."

The pirate hummed. "'Tis fair." He chuckled again and spun the wheel. "So, what do you do for a living?"

Rayla smiled and flipped her blade around. Although she had never killed someone, she was still proud of her physical strength. "I'm an assassin," she answered casually.

Villads was quiet for a moment, but then he burst into laughter. Rayla raised an eyebrow. He was mocking her; she could tell, and it made her angry. She felt the desire to prove herself to him, but she reminded herself that his opinion didn't matter. If he thought it was silly, why should she care? She'd had her fair share of people doubting her before, either from her age or appearance. There was no need to get riled up, though he was bruising her ego.

His laughter trailed off when he didn't hear the "human" laugh along. "Oh! You're not joking."

She supposed she might as well ease his worries a bit. "Well, I'm supposed to be an assassin," she clarified as she sat on a crate, "but I've never actually, you know, killed anyone."

"Oh. Well, maybe someday," he said, trying to ease her mind. "Never give up on your dreams!" he encouraged.

Rayla's dreams? She... honestly hadn't thought about _her_ dreams. Her path was set out for her from a young age. Runaan, an assassin, had taken her in for training when her parents left, so it was expected that she would follow in his footsteps. She didn't know she could do anything else. She never thought about what _she_ wanted to do.

"Thanks for the encouragement," she replied. The small talk had eased her apprehension, so she decided to come forwards. "But the truth is, I'm not sure being an assassin is my dream after all."

Back in her village, elves had told her one of two things: her kind heart was her best trait, or her worst. It either made her stronger or weaker. Runaan and her other instructors had said it was the latter. Her compassion would stop her from doing what was necessary. They worried she would pause to think about what was right, and that would get people killed.

Sometimes Rayla hated having emotions. She often wished she could be as powerful as her teammates back when they were traveling to kill the human king. They didn't stop to feel guilty or doubtful of what was right. Her moral code seemed like more of a barrier than a gate. Her emotions hindered her from taking risks all together rather than making poor choices. They controlled her, not the other way around.

She was incapable of being an assassin. She didn't have the drive required to hunt and kill people who threatened the crown. She didn't _want_ to kill people either, but she wasn't sure what else to do. No one had ever talked to her about other career paths, since it was set in stone that she would be a hitman. Rayla had no idea where else to turn, and when she thought about it she got a pit in her stomach and her heart starting racing.

Rayla was scared. She was lost and alone, like she was all those years ago when her parents abandoned her. She wasn't strong enough to make a decision on her own, but she wasn't strong enough to ask for help either.

It was pathetic. She was pathetic. In her blind desperation to right the wrongs of her procreators, she hadn't realized she was a coward all along.

"So, then... what is your dream?" he asked.

She groaned, blinking frustrated tears out her eyes. "I wish I knew."

He was silent after that. His lack of response made her feel worse, so she stepped away. Her blades felt heavy on her belt, and she itched to have something in her hands. She moved to the stairs and her knees gave out as she ungracefully sat on the steps.

Rayla was a coward. When faced with an issue she couldn't slice through, she ran away from her troubles and trusted they would sort themselves out on their own. She was trying to make a change in the world, but her world was coming crashing down in the process. Was that the price for peace? The whole world gets a benefit but she has to claw for freedom from her own feelings?

She clenched her fists. Why wasn't she strong enough?! No one else was having this problem, so why was she of all people going through such devastating emotional turmoil? She was supposed to be the fearless protector of the boys, glow toad, and baby dragon, and yet she was the one breaking under pressure. How pathetic!

The boat rocked, and she gagged. Great, on top of the trouble in her mind, she'd also have to deal with the sickness in her stomach.

Ezran came running over chasing Zym. The bright boy was beaming, and the dragon appeared to be smiling as well. Rayla was glad to see them happy. The two ran past her, and Ezran paused to give her a toothy grin. She couldn't help but return it.

The scene was so small and insignificant, but it made her feel a little better. At least Ezran and Zym were happy. That was what mattered right? So long as everyone else was happy, Rayla could deal with her problems on her own. It pained her, but it wasn't hurting anyone else, so she was fine. Everything was fine. If she kept in hidden, then the others wouldn't be hurt. Rayla would die before she hurt her friends.

'_Friends_.' They were her friends now. To think she'd chased them through a castle to kill them, and now she would lay her life on the line for them in a heartbeat. She would suffer if it meant they stayed unharmed. Were they a weakness or a strength? Were they her greatest asset or her Achilles heel?

"I'm a crazy old man, but let me share some wisdom, will ya?" Villads offered, seemingly sensing her distress.

She sighed. It's not as if she had anything to lose. "Why not? I love wisdom," she joked. Sarcasm and witty banter were what she did best; at least she had those two things to rely on. She could trust herself to be good at that. "Bring it."

The boat creaked as the pirate worded his sentence. "Life is like a river."

She hoped not; she hated the water. She was expecting a lecture. Rayla was great at lecturing herself on her own, thank you. She grumbled. "Oh, great. That's exactly what I was afraid of."

Ezran laughed as he continued to chase Zym. Rayla wished she could be like that, ignorant and joyful, not held down by heavy chains. Villads continued, "You can't see too far ahead. I can't see at all, as I might have mentioned." She smiled at the remark, and the sailor walked over to where she was and sat down next to her.

"You mentioned," his bird squeaked.

He ignored the bird. "You don't know where the river of life will bend and turn. You don't know where it will go at all."

The uncertainty made her worry more. "How is that supposed to be helpful?"

Villads turned his head in her direction. "Don't try to control where the river goes. There's one thing you can know and control: yourself. Look at yourself. Who are you, Rayla? What do you stand for?"

Rayla was a fighter. She fought with daggers the color of the sky and power in her muscles. She blended into the shadows but her morals were in the light. She was driven to succeed no matter the cost. She stood for justice and what was right not only in her eyes but in the eyes of the world. She would protect her friends, even if it meant sacrificing her heart and soul.

Callum had explained the concept of "humanity" to her once. He said it was what made humans "human." It was their compassion and drive, the things that had allowed them to flourish in a land barren of magic, something even elves couldn't do. It was what kept them from tumbling off the edge into insanity. It was why humans were considered weak in Xadia.

Rayla was an elf by blood, but she had humanity. She was powerful but kind; she would fight but not blindly. She would strike down only what she had to, and she would sympathize with those who deserved it. She showed generosity to creatures no matter their kind, and she expected nothing in return. Was she wrong or right? Was she weak or strong? Was she human or elf?

Was there a difference?

"Once you know that, then wherever the river takes you, you'll be right where you were always meant to be," Villads finished.

Rayla smiled. She'd sure been given something to think about. "Villads, that's amazing." She stood up. "When you started talking, I was sure you were going to spout some complete nonsense, but what you said, it's beautiful."

She turned to look at the man, but found him asleep on the stairs, cuddling his bird. The animal squawked, "I'll tell him later!"

She sighed, annoyed. The one time she was actually nice and he wasn't awake to hear it. Oh well.

What was she made of? What did she fight for? Who was _Rayla_? She didn't know, but she didn't have to. The river would take her there, and even if it didn't, she would get out and swim. If she couldn't swim, she'd find another boat. If she couldn't find another boat, she'd follow the river on land. She'd find a solution, no matter how creative or outrageous it turned out to be. Her strength lied within her ability to _try_. _That_ is what makes her strong.

As she looked out to the sea, she didn't feel sick. For once in her life, she felt truly confident that whatever came her way, she could push through. The unknown didn't scare her anymore, because she had faith that wherever she ended up, she would find happiness and strength.

XI.

"What are you doing?" questioned Callum, as Rayla drew her blades with a click.

"The humans are coming. We have to protect her," she ordered, crossing her knifes in front of her in an 'X.'

Callum put a hand on her shoulder. "We can't fight them, Rayla."

She could. She would strike all of them down if she had to. "I have to protect her."

"Callum's right," Ezran said, "and we have to get back to Zym."

She hated how he made a logical point, but Rayla had thrown logic out the window. The dragon wouldn't be abandoned by her. She wasn't going to budge.

Callum and Ezran started moving away. "We did what we could," Callum assured, but it fell on deaf ears. The prince reached back and grabbed her arm to drag her away. She closed her blades as they retreated into the woods just as the humans arrived with _Soren_ and _Claudia_ at the front.

Rayla's spirit burned with hatred for the siblings. They had taken Callum's heart and broken it; they had betrayed the princes' trust. Trust was a fragile thing, and they had cut the rope that connected them. Rayla knew firsthand how much that hurt.

Callum held his arm out in front of her, as if he knew she wanted to spring down there and wipe the smiles off the humans' faces. Not being able to bear the scene any longer, the two of them fled. She felt something else, something that turned her heart to ash. It was guilt.

It was the same guilt that had torn her apart before, and now was going to do it again. It was the same guilt that had caused her to spare the guard and betray her people with it. It was the same guilt that plagued her after Callum had pushed her away; she'd ran away knowing that she could've been better. Guilt clawed at her stomach and ripped away her heart. Guilt created a void where her soul should be and blackened whatever remained. Guilt wrapped around her mind and put her thoughts into a chokehold.

Rayla had spent _so long _running away, never confronting her issues, bottling them up before they could hurt her. Now she was running again, leaving a defenseless dragon behind, feeling like she could have done more. She _should_ have done more. Rayla had failed her people again.

"I should have done something," she voiced, looking off into the trees. Who knows what the humans were doing to the poor creature. She feared the worst.

"Rayla, you're always the one who reminds us that the only thing that matters is getting Zym back to Xadia," Callum said. Now Rayla was a liar, hypocrite, and a failure, all things an elf shouldn't be. She was so _desperate_ to prove she wasn't like her parents, and yet she had done the exact same thing they had. She had abandoned the dragon like her parents had abandoned her. She was no better than the scum under her foot. "Why are you hesitating now?"

Icy hot fury burned through her. She spun around angrily and shouted, "I'm not hesitating. This is different."

She was _angry_. She was angry at her instructors who had told her that her moral sense would only get in the way, and she'd never be able to be a successful assassin. She was angry at the elves who had refused to look her in the eye because she reminded them too much of her parents and the treason they committed. She was angry at her mother and father for leaving her behind, deserting her, _quitting_ on her, treating her like no less than a pebble on the side of the road. She was angry at herself for resembling the people who made her life hell, and she was angry because she couldn't move on from the past, and now she had reached a problem she couldn't slice through just like everyone said she would and she didn't know how to _fix it_.

Rayla had never been morally ambiguous like her fellow assassins. The world wasn't black and white; it existed in shades of gray that varied for everyone. But the gray was darker for some things and lighter for others. For other trainees, the color change was unnoticeable. For Rayla, it was so prominent it was all she could think about. Was she wrong or right, weak or strong, human or elf? Did it matter? Was there a difference? Could she _make_ a difference?

She put her hands over her chest. "Every fiber in my body is telling me this is wrong. That dragon is defenseless and I just left her there."

An innocent creature was going to suffer at her hands. Rayla still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she had _murdered_ the leech, but now, even more blood would be spilled and it would be _her_ fault. She'd run from her problems again, went against her kind again, betrayed her morals _again_. She was _just_ like her parents.

Rayla was done running.

"I don't get it, Rayla," Callum said. She didn't expect him to. He hadn't gone through what she had; he would never understand her experiences and how they shaped her to that day. "Why are you so worried about a dragon that just set fire to a town?"

She knew the dragon had been provoked; she didn't have proof, but she knew it in her heart. Even so, it was still her kin. It was still a part of Xadia's cycle of life just like she was. It still had thoughts and feelings like she did, still had relationships like she did, it still didn't want to die like she didn't. The dragon and her were almost one in the same, not by blood, but by spirit. She had to save her _family_, the last threads she had, before they snapped.

It wasn't just for a selfish reason, either. The humans were going to slay the dragon, so naturally, Xadia would want revenge. Then after they got it, the humans would want revenge. Then after they got it, Xadia would want revenge, and then the war they were trying hard to prevent would break out. Homes would be destroyed. Lives would be lost. Somebody had to have enough courage to take a stand. Somebody had to step up.

"I've been thinking about something someone once told me," she said. "About how when one person hurts another, then that person hurts them back, it becomes a cycle that never ends."

"Who told you that?"

She turned to face him. "You did."

"...Oh."

"But, Callum, to break that cycle, someone has to take a stand when no one else will," she declared. Rayla was willing to be the one to step up, even when no one else did. The good of the world came first.

"You're right," Callum agreed. "If we're really going to change things, we can't just watch while humans and Xadia keep hurting each other."

He brought his hands in front of him and gestured to himself. "But how do I take a stand?" he asked. She paused, not quite knowing how to answer. "Believe me, I want to go down there with you, and be the heroes who stop all the fighting and save the day, but I can't do that. I can't do anything!"

In her mind while she tried to sort out her feelings, she had forgotten that Callum would be affected too. The boy had a resolve stronger than steel, and he wanted just as badly as her to go back and protect the dragon. They both were willing to lay their life on the line to stop the fighting. But the difference between them was that Rayla could, and Callum couldn't.

She didn't want him to, either. It was selfish of her, but she wouldn't be able to bear seeing him hurt. She'd hated it when he was upset about the king; the sight of him had torn her apart. Callum was supposed to be joking around with a smile brighter than the sun, not curling into her arms with a storm cloud over his head. She couldn't stand the shame she had felt watching him mourn for someone who was lost. She didn't know what she would do if he was injured on her watch.

It was her fight, not his. She didn't ask for him to take on her problems, and she certainly could fight her own battles. It was a chance for her to prove to her kind, the humans, and herself that she was not a coward who would back down in the face of fear. She would stand tall and protect those she cared for with an iron fist raised. _Rayla_ was the one who had to go back. _That_ was where the river of life was taking her.

He turned his back to her and started to storm away; she grabbed Callum's arm and whirled him around so they were only inches apart. She wasn't going to let him walk away from her again. "It's okay, Callum. I'm not asking you to come with me. Protecting that dragon doesn't just feel like the right thing to do, it feels like the right thing for _me_ to do. It's where _I'm_ meant to be."

What did she fight for?

She fought to protect. She would keep those around her safe from harm, even at the cost of her own sanity. She'd gladly trade her life for either one of the princes, despite only knowing them for a couple weeks. She couldn't stand to see other people hurt, so she would be the hand that reached out to offer solace.

Rayla wasn't much like the moon. She didn't hide in the darkness; she didn't keep her actions gray. She was more like the sun. She was radiant and bright, guiding people towards the light where she stayed, keeping everyone happy. Rayla was safety, putting others before herself. Rayla was driven, determined to succeed at any price. Rayla was powerful, wielding twin blades and a stone cold glare. Rayla was _Rayla_, a person who would protect.

She clenched his fists defiantly as she looked down at the forest below. Somewhere down there, a dragon was in danger. She would not run away. "I'm going down there."

Rayla wasn't ignorant. Although she chose to ignore her emotions and problems, she knew that she could die on this mission. The humans were ruthless and plentiful; she would be vastly outnumbered. Could she stand against that many people and win? She wasn't sure.

"If I don't come back," she said, "you and Ezran can get Zym back to Xadia." She trusted that they would be able to handle that. She needed them to trust that she could handle this. "I believe in you."

"Wait, Rayla!"

She jumped off the ledge before he could convince her to stay. She hit a tree and hopped to another one before the branches broke apart, leaving Callum behind to wait for her return.

She arrived soon enough, pulling her hood up, though it wouldn't do much good in the sunlight. The human guards patrolled the area while Soren talked to Claudia. She breathed in.

By doing this, she was both following her morals and going against them. She didn't want to fight the humans, and she didn't want to compromise her beliefs. But in order to save the dragon, she would have to make sacrifices. Her morals didn't matter. Her _life_ didn't matter. What mattered was getting the dragon out of the chains the humans had placed around her.

'_Humans are weak, and elves are strong_.' The phrase was a mantra for Xadians. They were capable and dependable, resilient and fit, powerful and strong. That was the mindset Rayla reverted to. The good of the group came before the individual. In the wide expanse of the universe, Rayla's insignificant life didn't matter. Her purpose was to serve others for as long as she could and then pass on. If the length of her service was cut short that day, then so be it. At least she would die with a purpose. Rayla was going to go down swinging. She breathed out.

With a newfound passion, she flicked her blades up into position. "It doesn't matter what happens to me. Live or die, this dragon goes home," she declared.

'_Humans are weak, and elves are strong_.'

She crept behind the cover of a rock. Standing before her was a human guard, totally oblivious to her plan. She tapped their metal blade, making a soft clatter to gain their attention. When the guard turned, she struck, dragging them behind the rock and knocking them out cold. Guilt rose, but she shoved it down. She still didn't have the heart to kill, she supposed.

She flipped over the stone and used the guard's weapon to strike down another human. Since the coast was clear, she ran to a spike with a rope tied around it. It didn't take long to cut the flimsy string, and she was moving on in a matter of moments.

She crept around, using the dragon's body as cover. In a way, the dragon was still helping her. She came across two guards, but they were out in the open, so she slid past them. She didn't want to needlessly hurt anyone. The point of the mission was to free the dragon so the conflict stopped, not make it worse by engaging in unnecessary violence. She had enough honor and common sense to not be the first one to strike. Though, if the humans attacked her, she would defend herself.

The guards didn't notice as she sliced through the second rope. She felt a lot more confident. The elf crawled over the dragon's back to the other side, which unfortunately had the bound the dragon with steel chains. Oh well, her blade would cut through them hopefully eventually.

She heard a tapping sound in front of her. The assassin stopped cutting for a moment to look up. Standing in front of her was Soren, with his sword rested on his shoulder and a group of guards around him. She groaned; of course it wasn't easy, not that she was expecting it to be. "This guy again? Of course."

"A dead dragon and a dead elf all in one day. Everything's coming up Soren."

If they weren't enemies, she weren't on a mission and the threat of dying wasn't held over her head, she might have applauded him for that line. Instead, she overlooked the witty comment for the valuable information. The humans weren't aware that the dragon was still alive. She could use that to her advantage somehow. At least she knew they wouldn't try to harm the creature since there was no need, for now.

He came at her first, which was what she had anticipated and hoped for. She swung to attack and stop him from swinging, and he striked back. Their swords clang together, and he raised it over his head and came down, hitting nothing but dirt. She backed off to create some space.

Soren rushed at her again, meeting her blade. He swung and missed, swung and was blocked, and then they reached a stalemate. They pushed against each other's weapon, fighting for dominance. Soren shifted his weight and she fell forwards a step, and he kicked her in the stomach, which sent her flying.

She rolled and popped back up onto her knees. The other human guards raised their weapons. There were only four of them and they were by far not expert fighters, but if Soren kept attacking at the same time, there would be a problem. Then she turned and another guard was behind her, and the six guards closed in on her, making a circle.

One of them rushed forwards, and she wasn't prepared for the power behind their swing. She was sent back a step and she cried out. She stepped forwards and swung for their legs, and as they dodged she shot towards the other guards like a bullet, slicing at them. They closed her in, and she looked for an escape. Finding it behind her, the elf leapt up onto the dragon's back, gaining higher ground.

The dragon rumbled. Rayla had to finish the fight and fast. Changing one of her knifes to a hook, she wriggled it under a chain and held it up as she struck with her other blade. It bounced off the metal bonds, sending her back.

Soren hummed. "Ooh, yeah, the thing about chains? They're made of metal. Hard to cut."

She didn't know why she let him humor her instead of attacking, but her lungs felt like she was being stabbed. Every breathe she took sent shivers down her spine, and not in a good way. She'd reached a battle she couldn't slice through. Her muscles ached, and part of her wished she had stayed with the princes and rested. Guilt swam to the surface as her morals battled with logic, and she shut her feelings down. She didn't have time for emotions. "I'm not backing down," Rayla stated.

It was a losing battle. The sentiment for the dragon was nice, but soon Rayla would be a splatter on the ground the color of said dragon's skin. She was heavily outnumbered, weakened, and emotionally drained. If she kept fighting, she would get sloppy, which would speed up her demise. The fight was over, unless a miracle happened and saved her.

Rayla was so, _so_ tired.

"Try not to kill her, Soren," Claudia warned. "She can lead us to Ezran and Callum." Although his sister advised against her murder, Soren could still hurt her. No matter what he did, however, she would _not_ let them get to the brothers. The mission wasn't just about the dragon anymore. Now Callum and Ezran were involved.

"She doesn't have to," a voice declared. All heads turned towards the sound.

From within the cover of darkness emerged Prince Callum. Callum, who sheepishly admitted to drawing her one night while they were on watch. Callum, who chased after something he couldn't obtain but when he did, he was capable of the impossible. Callum, who begged her to let them stay at the Moon Nexus and Rayla couldn't say no because he was _Callum_ and she was soft for him. Callum, who made her open up with nothing more than a touch on the shoulder and comforted her with kind words when she was doubting herself. _Her_ Callum smiled and laughed and blushed and was happy and whoever came out from the forest was not _her_ Callum.

This Callum felt darker, like his aura had done a complete 180. This Callum looked angry, no, this Callum looked _furious_. She often admired the determination and fire he held, but in that moment, it scared her. She was scared _of_ him, and scared about what he was about to do since she didn't know. A storm was brewing behind his eyes, and Rayla didn't want to be caught in it.

"I'm right here." His voice would sound like honey when he would tell her she was brave. It was sweet and pleasing to her ears. That voice didn't match _her_ Callum. It wasn't sugar, it was spice, and it was commanding and confident.

Not noticing the difference, Claudia gushed, "Callum! You're safe!" Rayla knew him well enough to know something was off, and Claudia was probably the _last_ person he wanted to see.

The dark mage's eyes traveled to the book in one hand and grub in the other. "What are you doing?"

He raised both items. "Your kind of magic."

Her Callum was caring and considerate. This Callum was destructive and hurtful. Her Callum was brave and curious. This Callum was heartless and selfish. Her Callum pushed the boundaries of her expectations of humans, made her rethink what she had been taught about his kind by completely going against everything she had grown up learning. This Callum gave into them, becoming the human who destroyed and rampaged. This Callum was the human Rayla had hoped he would never become.

She wasn't sure what to think or feel. She felt upset, angry, guilty, all rolled into one. Her anger manifested first, circling through her like ice in her veins. How could he do this? How could he betray her like this? Dark magic _always_ backfired. It was always for selfish purposes, but she couldn't find one for that moment. Callum wasn't power-hungry, but he had seemed thirsty for magic recently. Was he really going to turn to dark magic to fulfill that need?

"You don't want to do this, Callum," Claudia warned, stepping closer and reaching out towards him. Although she agreed, she did hate how Claudia acted as if she knew what the boy wanted. It infuriated her to no end how she was obviously using him and he couldn't see it and she couldn't tell him cause she couldn't break his heart.

Jealousy. That was what she felt. She squashed it like a bug.

"It's really dangerous unless someone shows you how."

"You already did." With that, he crushed the glowing green grub in his hand, and lime colored blood oozed between his fingers. He chanted words she didn't understand, and when he opened his eyes, they were bright purple. Rayla didn't like seeing that. His eyes were supposed to be green like summer grass, not glowing with dark power. He raised his hand that had turned the blood into green flames, and they shot towards the dragon and wrapped around the chains. They glowed and transformed into snakes that slithered away. His eyes flashed to black.

The snakes didn't seem to be harmful, since they slid past Soren, Claudia, and Rayla without attacking. At least he had done something right. She looked back over to the prince and watched helplessly as his eyes rolled up, and he fell to the ground.

Now Rayla was angry, both at the prince and the other humans. She would scold Callum about dark magic later. Now that he was involved and hurt, two of the things she had tried to prevent, Soren and Claudia were going to pay. They were going to _pay_, and she would make sure of it, and they would go down screaming and she would _relish_ in it.

She was struck by a dark thought. Rayla wanted to _kill_ them. They had stolen Callum from her, tried to slay an innocent dragon, and gotten the prince hurt, at least indirectly. She wanted them to suffer the same pain she felt. She wanted revenge, and the desire burned through her being.

Then her logic switched back on, and her stomach twisted with guilt. How could she ever think that?! Her anger was justified, but that was crossing a line. Her ethics wouldn't ever let her actually go through with it, but the fact that he had even thought of that and _wanted_ it scared her. Were her morals dying out? Would she become a heartless monster?

She reminded herself of her mission. Callum and feelings could come later. She dropped down next to the dragon's head and pushed against it, trying to wake her up. "Get up! You're free!"

Soren's blade made its way to her throat. She instinctively raised her hands. "Congratulations!" She made her way to a standing position. "That was impressive. Really." He was toying with her. "You did everything you could to save a monster that torched a town of innocent people."

He was guilt tripping her too, and it was working. She knew there had to be another side of the story, something he wasn't telling, but it still _hurt_. The _last_ thing Rayla wanted to become was a monster. Did defending a "monster" make her one?

"But it didn't even matter. You freed a dead dragon."

Smoke rose from the dragon's body, a signal that she was healing. She opened her big, bright blue eyes and growled through her throat. Soren didn't look so confident after that.

Then the scene descended into chaos. The dragon rose and was enraged with the humans. Callum was still collapsed on the ground. She ran over to her friend and left the dragon to deal with the guards. She grabbed Callum's arm and back to support him as she yelled, "We have to get out of here!"

Callum groaned, and she put his arm around her shoulder so she could move him. The dragon advanced on Soren, who foolishly swung at it. He was knocked away into a stone, and Rayla swore she could hear the crack of his spine from far away. Then Zym and Ezran appeared, and there presence made the dragon fly off. Claudia chose to help her brother instead of killing Ezran and Zym. Ezran ran off into the woods, and Rayla moved after him, dragging a groggy Callum along with her.

Rayla was so, _so_ tired.

XII.

It was dawn, now. She had hoped to make it to the Xadian border, but they'd had to stop for Callum. Even though he was unconscious, or in some weird fever dream, she was still angry with him. He had done _dark_ magic, something he had vowed he would never do, and the cost of it could be himself. She had watched as he had crushed the little creature in the palm of his hands and his eyes shimmered purple. She had watched as his morals flipped and he became a different person. She didn't like it one bit.

But _he_ had to pay the price. He had dabbled in something he shouldn't have messed with, and it made him sick as a result. That was his fault and no one else's, so she had to let _him_ fix it.

Callum started to twitch and groan in his sleep. At one point, he cried out in pain. She was still angry with him, but that didn't mean she wanted to see him wounded. Though trying to convince herself she didn't care, she reiterated, "You messed with something you shouldn't have messed with, and now you're paying the price."

Deep down in her heart, she knew she wanted nothing more than for his suffering to be over. She wanted things to go back to how they were before, with their banter and snide comments but ultimate friendship. She didn't want him to be hurt.

But she didn't want to get attached either. She would never be able to truly know someone, and sooner or later she would be betrayed. Runaan had betrayed her family by going against her in a fight to the death, and if she hadn't left with the princes, she would have been finished off later. Callum had betrayed her trust by using the banished magic, killing an innocent creature, and stealing its power for himself. She couldn't forgive that.

"Help! Help," he exclaimed, and despite her protests, she softened. He had that effect on her, the one that made her lay down her armor and show him her true colors. She sighed and bent down to grab the cloth. "You'll get through this," Rayla assured, putting the damp cloth on the boy's forehead. "You big dumb human."

'_Humans are weak, and elves are strong_.' That was the mantra her people repeated, and that was the mantra Callum had challenged and the elf herself had began to question. Humans destroyed all threats that stood in their way, but Xadia did as well. They did when they exiled mankind; they did when they provoke battles with the humans; they did when they eliminated the people who dared to challenge them. If humans are bloodthirsty, power-hungry monsters, were elves any better?

What about the reverse? Humans could be caring; Ezran had proven that to her. His compassion was second to no one she had ever met, and she was sure that would make him an excellent king someday. The young king remained positive because he recognized that the group needed it. Without his presence, they probably would have fallen apart. Even with the new addition of dark magic, Callum had shown her that humans could be powerful. He had managed an incomplete spell, something no Xadian mage had been able to accomplish. Humans could be strong, just look at the princes. Elves could be weak, just look at her.

Rayla let her emotions guide her. For years, she and her mentors had debated whether that was a strength or weakness. They could allow her to have empathy when other people couldn't, but they could also prevent her from doing what is necessary. They should've been a gate but instead they were a barrier. They weren't lenient and often times were confusing and held double standards. Did her morals make her weak or strong?

Honestly, they just made her tired. The events of that day had left her drained, and she was barely holding back the explosion of emotion she felt. Her feelings were bottled up into glasses but the glass was cracking, and it was going to reach a point where she wouldn't be able to stop it. Something would send her over the edge. It was just a waiting game.

That thing happened sooner than she thought it would. Callum writhed in his haze, but what worried her beyond belief was how he began gasping for breath. He wasn't simply trying to catch his breath; it was as if the air had been stolen from his lungs and he was desperately trying to get it back. She went to put a hand on his chest but she hesitated, and she hovered over him. "Callum? Are you okay?"

She knew the answer to that, even if she tried to deny it. Callum was not okay, and somehow she knew it was her fault. She couldn't bring herself to regret going to save the dragon, but she did regret how it got the human hurt, even though she couldn't control his actions. Her anxiety spiked with every gasp he took; the pent up stress and frustration and anger and guilt all came rushing back.

Yet, she _still_ hesitated. Rayla had absolutely no clue what to do in that moment; she didn't know if there was anything she _could_ do for him. She was helpless as Callum was _dying _and she couldn't do anything but watch and somehow it was all her fault and she knew it well.

She shook his shoulders and cried, "Callum!" She was close to sobbing herself, but she had to stay put together for him. She knew full well he most likely couldn't hear her, but she continued to call out for him anyways, feeling like it was the only thing she could do. "Callum!"

He continued to struggle, and she shifted so she was siting on top of him in case he needed something along the lines of CPR. "Callum! Wake up!"

The dam broke. She didn't care what he did before, all that mattered was him being okay. She _needed_ him; he was her emotional stability. He was Callum, the boy who saved her from the leech's grasp while she was breaking down and panicking and didn't tease her about it after. Callum, who embraced her and wasn't upset with her when he learned she had withheld important information from him about his father. Callum, who never blamed her for dropping the egg into a lake because he recognized that she was couldn't help it and felt bad enough as it was. Callum, who was both shy and confident; Callum, who was both joyful and realistic; Callum, who knew he couldn't fight but still ran after her to _save_ her-

He was saving her, wasn't he? That was why he had gone after her. That was why he had used dark magic. It wasn't because his morals had changed; it was because they had stayed the _same_. He had gotten hurt _for her._ He had gone against his vow _for her. _It was all for her, and she cursed herself for not seeing it before because she would've realized and he was still trying to save her from beating herself up. He was dying, and he was _still_ saving her when she was supposed to be the one to protect _him_.

_That_ was what made her break. She could handle a hopeless battle. She could handle nearly dying. That... that she could _not_ handle. Everything crashed down, the coils of anger, the stabbing of guilt, the tears of sadness, and she didn't know when she started crying but she did and it reminded her of rain which reminded her of Callum and how he was _dying_ and it was still _for her._

"You've got to stay with me!" She propped him up against her and clung to him as he fought for air. If he was going to die, she might as well put her pride aside and say what she felt. "Oh, Callum! Please, come back. It doesn't matter what you did before. I just want you to be okay again. Callum!"

She wasn't angry _at_ him; she supposed she never was angry at him. She had been angry about how he casted dark magic, but she was never mad_at him_. She was angry _for_ him. She was angry about how he was facing something she couldn't help with, and how he had to come save her because she was an idiot who flew into a battle she was unprepared for. She was angry that she was powerless to save him because he had saved her, and now the price could be himself. She was angry at the universe for always being against them and bad things _always_ happened to them and Callum didn't deserve the backlash.

Callum, who cast a spell strong enough to keep an avalanche at bay when he had no training. Callum, who blew away the wolves with a spell he was using for the first time and had no idea if it would actually work. Callum, who continued to impress and amaze her every single day they spent on their journey. Callum, who proved to her that _humans_ could be _strong_.

Callum was strong. He was a force to be reckoned with, that was for certain. He didn't look like much of a threat, but underneath the layers of innocence, he was a deadly storm. He had a heart of gold for the people he cared about but an iron fist and unforgivingness to the people who challenged them. He needed to survive. _She_ needed him to survive.

Callum, who was willing to trade his life for his little brother's. Callum, who sided with Soren and Claudia, but in the end, he made a choice and went against them. Callum, who bantered with her from day one when he complimented her performance against the guards who were supposed to be protecting him. Callum, who beamed and snickered and cheered. Callum, who's eyes twinkled and lamented and shimmered. Callum, who struggled and conquered and proved. She wanted Callum back. She wanted _her_ Callum back.

_Her_ Callum, who was caring and supportive and amazing. _Her_ Callum, who was eager to learn and didn't mind that she only had limited knowledge; he took what he could get. _Her_ Callum, who was happy and carefree and _beautiful_, because he was _beautiful_, and Rayla's heart squeezed when she looked at him and he praised her and touched her and talked with her and she loved it and _she loved him_.

She loved him, didn't she? She'd never been taught much about love, but she imagined it would feel something like that. He'd never given her butterflies or nerves, but he did give her _himself_, and that was enough. She didn't need fireworks to go off in her mind because _he_ was the firework, eccentric and colorful and the thing she was admiring. She yearned for him; there was always a sort of anticipation and excitement for their next conversation after the last. She adored him; he was cute and pretty and handsome all rolled into one. She loved him; he was _Callum_, and Callum was _Callum_, sweet and magnanimous and heroic.

"I can't lose you like this, you mean too much to me!" She cried, holding him because if she let go he could slip away and she had to be touching him so she knew he wouldn't. She pulled him slightly away from her so she could see him. His brown hair spilled over his face and his lashes were longer up close. "Callum, I..."

Could she do it? Could she say it? It was one thing to know it, but admitting things out loud was something she had never been good at. The only reason she had even admitted it to _herself_ was because of the heat of the moment; in any other situation, she probably would've ignored it until it hopefully went away. She supposed he was _dying_, so she should confess before he went away forever and the opportunity was gone _forever_.

She cupped his cheek and leaned forwards. His skin had always been soft, unlike her calloused hands that were rough from years of wielding a blade. "I..."

Callum shot up, gasping like he had just began to regain air. His eyes flew open and she jerked backwards, the moment ruined. "Oh! Look, you're awake now," she said awkwardly, trying to save the situation as Callum gasped for the rest of the oxygen he needed and waves of relief crashed over her. "You're even looking cheery. And is that a twinkle in your eye? Oh, no. That's not a twinkle, it's one of those sleep crusties." She licked her finger and reached forwards. "Here, let me..."

"I have it," Callum announced. She quirked a brow, and he looked at her with his messy hair and mesmerizing eyes and said, "I understand the sky arcanum."

He smiled softly at her, and her heart melted. He looked at her like she was the best thing he had ever seen, but there was a certain fire behind his eyes and she could tell he wanted to show her what he was capable of.

Her love and feelings could wait a bit longer. She wanted to see him prove himself again to not only her, but himself as well. That was the real reward, seeing him improve. It felt like she was growing with him.

She would grow alongside him forever if she could.

XIII.

"The sky's getting lighter," Rayla observed. That was a bad sign. "We need to hurry! If the sun rises, we won't be able to see the moon runes."

Her warning was too late. Golden light filtered through the rocks up ahead, and the blue evaporated off the stones in front of them. "Run!" Callum yelled. She didn't need to be told twice.

They sprinted across the rocks in a frenzy, barely stopping to glance at which safe one was next. Their efforts were in vain, because the light caught up with them, and they were halted in their path. Stones behind them sunk into the lava, and Rayla preferred not knowing what it was like to burn alive.

Then Zym hopped up onto Callum's shoulders, a determined look on his face. He flapped his wings and jumped off of Callum's head, sailing forwards. "He's flying!" Callum exclaimed, and she cheered for encouragement. The dragon sailed high into the air, and Rayla felt her confidence rise.

"He's trying to block the sun!" She said. She and Callum watched as Zym flew closer to the canyon in front of them.

Then, his flight turned for the worse. He started falling down, and the elf and human gasped. Zym whimpered and hit a stone, and it sank under his weight. He tried to push off of another, but it was swallowed by the lava too soon to be used as leverage. "He isn't going to make it!"

She couldn't watch the baby dragon die, but she couldn't do anything about it either. She could only stare powerlessly as the dragon rushed to meet the ground. Luckily for her, the human beside her took a stand.

Callum raised two fingers and drew a familiar rune. "_Aspiro_," he chanted. The burst of wind flew towards the dragon, pushing him back up into the air. Zym let the wind fall past his wings and he glided, staying upright all on his own.

Breathing out in relief, Callum and Rayla celebrated their small victory.

The dragon's shadow cast across the rocks, like a black beacon of hope. The runes on the stones glittered blue once again. "We can see the path again! Run!" Rayla shouted. They darted across the rocks, not stopping long enough for any one to have a chance to sink. She hit the side first and Callum arrived soon after.

"We did it! We made it across!" Callum hollered with just as much excitement as she felt.

"Whoo!" She cheered. "Yeah!"

Callum stepped towards her, an open invitation. They threw their arms around each other and she was touching him and he was touching her and she reveled in it. His coat was soft and his scarf tickled her neck, and she buried her shoulder in his hair. They were in Xadia now, which meant their adventure was another step closer to completion and they simply took a moment to stop and appreciate it.

Zym came between them and they stepped apart. They felt like a family, something she hadn't had for a long time. They were warm and she felt fuzzy and like she was on top of the world. Rayla and Callum beamed at each other and everything else melted away and she loved it just like she loved him.

They continued on through the canyons, and the sun made every detail glow. Callum's skin sparkled and his eyes looked with wonder. "This is it, Callum."

She could feel the wind on her back, glow on her face, power in her veins. Magic fluttered through the air like a breeze and the moment was magic and _she_ was magic and _he_ was magic.

She spun in front of him and spread her arms. "Xadia."

XIV.

She pressed her closed blade into his hand. "Look, I know you have your magic, but at some point that won't be enough."

They had been arguing for ages about Rayla teaching Callum how to fight with a weapon. He had been adamant that he would be fine with just his magic, but she knew better. He had already gotten hurt from using his magic; she wanted him to have another option. It would be a win-win; he would be able to fight, and she wouldn't have to worry about him as much.

"Rayla, I swear, I'll be fine," he said, pushing her blade back over to her. "I get that you're worried about me, but I have my magic!"

"Why are you so against this?" She questioned. It was strange how much he was fighting against learning. There had to be some secret reason.

"I just think that I don't need to learn."

"Well, I think you do. What if someone comes along and a spell isn't enough?"

"Then I have you to protect me."

She wasn't sure what to make of that. Sure, she was ecstatic of how he believed in her to keep him safe, but she couldn't do that forever. Someday, there would come a time where she would fall, and Callum would need to step up. She wanted him to be ready so that he wouldn't fall too.

She sighed. "Show me your fighting stance."

He raised an eyebrow and complied, and she looked for weaknesses. "Distribute your weight more evenly." He made the change. "Bend your knees more." He made the change. "Lift up your heel." He made the change.

She walked around him, observing his updated stance. "That's a good start."

The tension dropped from his muscles. "Rayla, I don't-"

She grabbed his hand and forced his fingers around the hilt of her blade. "Now, for the blade."

He jerked his hand away. "Rayla."

She peered down at him. He seemed worried, though she wasn't sure why. She understood that she _was_ making him do something he didn't want to do, but he had to learn. She needed him to be strong.

"Come on, please!" She begged, clasping her hands together. "Let me teach you! Then you'll be able to fight and help me stand up for ourselves!"

"I told you, I can fight. I have my magic to protect me, and I'm learning new spells all the time!" That was true. As Rayla remembered Draconic words, she would relay them to Callum who would figure out the spell to go with it. The most notable one so far was the ice spell. He had gotten exceptionally skilled at it, and could even aim it through his feet.

"What happens when magic isn't enough?" She asked. "What happens when I can't protect you for whatever reason and there's not a storm out?" Anger filled her quickly, even though she tried to refrain from getting mad at him. "Quit being stubborn and let me help you! You're being an idiot!"

"I know I'm an idiot!" He yelled, and she went silent. Callum's eyes were wide, like he hadn't meant to say that. Wind rustled the bushes, and the tension built up.

"What?" She questioned, her voice soft. Yeah, she called him dumb or an idiot all the time, but she never actually _meant_ it. She thought he knew she didn't mean it. Their teasing and banter had always been a mutual thing, another quirk in their friendship. She never intended to hurt him; she would _never_ hurt him. Rayla would die before she was the one to lay a finger on him. She couldn't bear even the _thought_ of seeing him upset because of something she did or said. But he didn't know that.

Had she gone and wrecked their relationship before it even started? Had she made one too many mistakes and he was going to leave her? He couldn't leave her, she _needed_ him. She needed him to stay by her side; she couldn't do it alone. She needed him to play the role of the protected so she could be the protector. Without him, her balance would be thrown off, and she would wander aimlessly with no compass.

Callum finally broke the silence. "If you train me," he started, and the atmosphere turned melancholic, "I know I'm going to make a fool of myself, and I don't want you to think less of me."

How could she think less of him? She already regarded him highly; he was Callum! Callum, who gave her flowers he found in the outskirts of a village because they made him think of her. Callum, who brought her pie from the market in town, even though he was scared to go on his own, because he saw that she was tired. Callum, who admitted to staying up late one night to sketch a portrait of her and Zym. Callum, who she needed to protect in any way she could, by training him to fight, by fighting for him, _anything_ so long as he was alright.

"I don't... I don't think lowly of you," she confessed. For once, she lowered her walls, even just a little bit, so he would feel better.

He seemed surprised. "Wha... how? I mess up all the time, and I'm never any help."

Is that how he thought of himself? Did he not see how amazing he was? He stopped her from engaging in a brawl with two elves because he saw an alternate path. He used his ice to freeze a fire when Zym had knocked the burning sticks into a tree. He had negotiated with a blacksmith into getting her blades sharpened when she had started to get frustrated with him. Maybe he wasn't slaying a dragon or stopping a war on the front lines, but he was making their journey a lot more enjoyable through the little things he did. He didn't need to fight a monster to be incredible. He was awesome just the way he was.

"I won't tease you, if it makes you feel any better," she said. She wanted to tell him about how he made her smile when he did something nice for her, or how she didn't mind him not combating on the battlefield because she wanted him to stay right by her side. Her pride killed the words before they rose in her throat.

He sighed. "I still don't..." He waved his hand vaguely.

"You don't have to learn," she assured, although she wanted him to. She _really_ wanted him to, because she wanted what was best for him. But _she_didn't know what was best for _him_. She couldn't force him into something he didn't want to do. "I think it would be good for you to, but I won't force you."

He gazed at her, and she squirmed, uncomfortable. His forehead creased and his eyebrows furrowed. It was as if he were studying her with his gaze. At last, he held out his hand, palm facing the sky. "It's okay. I trust you."

_'You and I don't have that yet.'_

Things had changed. He _trusted_ her, and the thought warmed her from her head to her toes. He _trusted_ her, and she smiled at him, letting it grace her features and she felt giddy because he trusted her to guide him while he was blindfolded. He _trusted_ her, and she would hold onto that thread for ages until her knuckles went white and her hand ached.

She beamed at him, and he rolled his eyes but they sparked anyways. She felt _so_ proud when by the end of their training session, he knew how to throw a proper punch and kick, and he could also seamlessly flip her blade from a knife to a hook. He was one step closer to being able to fight with her, and he acknowledged later on that he was being stubborn for no reason because he felt more confident as well.

Rayla imagined she was on a pedestal. Runaan was slightly above her on his own level. Ezran was below her on his own platform. Callum was hanging on to the same area she stood, striving to stand on the same status she was on. She would wait patiently for the day he was strong enough to stand by her side.

Next to them in a tree, a single crow landed within the bushes.

XV.

Rayla tossed a berry to Callum. It bounced off his cheek and fell to the ground, where Zym happily ate it. She tried again, and it hit the corner of his mouth. She threw one more and it sailed into his mouth and he munched on it gaily, proud of his achievement. She laughed at his antics.

The three of them had just left a town and were continuing on their journey to the heart of Xadia, where the Dragon Queen laid. They had stopped for a while to take a small break and restock on supplies like food and water. They hadn't stuck around for long, only about a day; the longer they stayed around other elves, the higher chance of Callum being discovered. She had done her best to create a suitable disguise but she could only do so much. She couldn't erase one of his fingers or make him spontaneously grow horns. They also had to worry about Zym, but for the most part he was well behaved and stayed within Callum's backpack, which Rayla carried.

They had been walking for a few hours when Zym started to circle around her legs, a sign he was hungry. The trio took a break to feed the baby dragon and relax before they started up their trek once more. Somewhere along the way, the human prince had challenged her to a battle, and they took turns chucking berries at each other to see who could catch more in their mouth. Rayla had won in the end; she had more practice with aim. It was hilarious to watch Callum struggle to snag a berry between his jaws. Rayla would occasionally make it difficult on purpose by throwing the food at a weird angle or too fast just to see his pouty face.

She dusted her hands and stood up from the ground where she was sat. "Whelp, seeing you lose was enjoyable. Shall we hit the road?"

Callum sulked at her, slumping forward onto the sky dragon that sat in his lap. "Yeah, lets get going."

Rayla smirked at him, smug about her victory. Then after that, everything went wrong.

She heard rustling in the bushes around them, far too much noise to just be from the breeze. Not wanting Callum to worry, she turned around at a normal pace and eyed the bushes while he could only see her back. There was movement in the shadows. Her opponents were clearly amateurs, or they felt no reason to hide.

Callum made a move to stand, but she held her hand out in front of him. "Rayla? What's-"

She shushed him, not that it would do any good. Their opposers were coming right towards them. She reached for the blades she kept on her belt and flicked them open, dropping into a stance before the human and dragon.

Out from the shadows emerged her enemy, but they weren't what she was expecting. She was anticipating a group of elves from the town who had smelled something fishy about the person walking with her with his hood up and the slight twitching in the bag she carried. Instead, they were greeted by elves who looked to be a bit older than her, who were clad in blues, greens, and blacks, the typical colors Moonshadow assassins wore. There were three of them; two of them wielded a knife much like hers, the other one had a sort of axe. They seemed normal, aside from the fact that she knew who they were, and they were supposed to be _dead_.

It happened only about four months before her mission to kill the king. Three young trainees were sent on a small mission into Katolis to scout around for the bigger mission a few months later. What was strange was how the trio didn't return, and they were pronounced dead. There was no explanation of any kind, just an assumption based on loose evidence. She supposed it was possible they could be standing before them, but she didn't like how each of the elves' eyes gleamed a familiar purple.

It was the work of dark magic. She wasn't sure how, but the three elves had been revived and sent to kill them. At least, that's what she speculated their mission was. She didn't know why else they would be holding weapons in their hands.

"Oh, joy," she exclaimed, "another battle. Can we get one day of peace?"

"I don't think that's possible," Callum replied, still sat down behind her. "Also, you should probably pay attention."

One of the elves, the unnaturally blonde one, had lunged at her and she ducked under their swing and brought her elbow down on their arm. Their grip on their weapon loosened, and she knocked it out of their hand and it buried itself in a tree. Another one, the brunette, came at her from behind. She flipped herself over their head and let them crash into their partner. The third opponent, the black haired one, swiped at her with their axe. She blocked it with her blade.

Eventually, the other elf won their power battle, and she was shoved backwards. By then, the other two had recovered and they charged at her at the same time. She sliced at the brunette and they dodged. The blonde one lashed with their weapon and she turned to avoid it. The dagger clipped her shoulder, and she hissed in pain. They came at her again and that time their blade ricocheted off her own. The brown haired elf swung their blade down, and she jerked her elbow away which gave the blondie an opening. They slashed and nicked her cheek. Then they struck again, aiming for her heart, and she was sent a half-step backwards with a new cut on her other shoulder. The brunette stabbed with their blade and she ducked under it and backed off, creating some distance.

The black haired elf grabbed her around her stomach and she flailed, using the momentum to kick the blonde enemy. She elbowed her assistant in the ribs and then struck their knee, forcing them to set her on the ground. The brunette swung their blade and she blocked it with her own. The black haired one kicked the back of her knees and she fell to the ground.

The recovered blonde one produced rope from their pocket, and they strode towards Callum and the dragon. Callum began to draw the lightning rune, but he was stopped by the assassin grabbing his hand. The elf raised her blade to strike the prince.

Now Rayla was _angry_. She would not let the three dead elves take Callum and Zym to wherever they needed to go. She would not let them hurt the other two. She was supposed to be protecting them but instead she was on the ground with two elves restraining her arms. What kind of leader was she?

"Callum!" She shouted, though it didn't fix anything. She tried to jerk out of the elves' grip but they held her like a vice. Her gaze darted around and landed near her hand. One of her blades was close to her fingers; if she could maneuver a bit to her left, she could grab it.

Though she didn't know what to do after that. The elves were behind her, so if she wanted to attack them, she would have to slice and hope she hit something. She couldn't pry their arms off of her but she could cut them, but that could cause serious damage, and her hand would have to be at a weird angle. What she noticed the most obvious escape to be was the opening between the black haired elf's arms. It would be so easy to strike; it was the only exploitable weakness she could find. She was hesitant to do so, because the opening was right over her opponent's heart.

She could kill them. She could do it and it would be so simple, so quick, and it would get the elf off of her and stop them from attacking her or the others again. But it was still a life, even if they were being controlled by dark magic. There could be another way to save them that she didn't know of, and she could eliminate that chance. She could kill the other elf holding her on her right too if she was fast enough. She could kill them both right then and there.

Her morals battled with logic. One one hand, it was the best thing to do. They wouldn't be able to strike her later when she went for the elf standing near Callum and Zym. She would be able to get to the other assassin and prevent them from capturing the human and dragon. On the other hand, there could be a magic solution to their possession and then they could go back to living normal undead lives. There could still be a soul present, and she wasn't sure she could handle robbing somebody of their life, even if it was to protect someone else.

What to do? She didn't have much time to make a decision. Soon, Callum would be tied up and Zym would follow. The elves behind her would strike her dead, and their mission and hard work would be for nothing. She had given so much up, sacrificed so much for their journey, she couldn't let it go to waste.

Her debating was put on hold as the blonde elf raised their knife to Callum's throat.

Red, hot anger burned through her. Callum, the boy who hugged his brother close and promised to return to him. Callum, who had a duty to perform after their adventure was over. Callum, who still had a life to live. Did his one life matter over three walking corpses? What about her morals? Could she abandon them, leave them behind for the sake of saving him? They had been her one consistency; they were the code she could always trust to keep her actions in line. She didn't want to teeter over the edge.

Then she remembered Callum that night with the dragon. He had gone after her and rescued her by deserting his morals about dark magic. He had saved her by sacrificing his beliefs for her wellbeing. She was supposed to protect him and yet he had protected her by laying down his morality and breaking his vow. He did it so effortlessly, though it must have torn him up inside. He had gone through all that trouble for _her_. She could do the same for him.

She clenched her blue blade. Runaan's lover, Tinker, had gifted it to her, handcrafted with love and care for her when she started her training. The blade stayed sharp for a long time and glinted in the light it caught. It was designed to slide through material with ease. She had used it to cut through cloth, rope, and sometimes metal. She had used them throughout her trading to chop through the plaster of dummies, strings that had been tied around her hands for practice escaping bonds, and other blades for other students.

None of that could prepare her for what it felt like to slide through a person's flesh. She was right, it had been easy. She'd torn through their clothes, skin, and muscles with ease. She drove her blade into the elf's chest up to the hilt and it was so _easy_ and she knew they were her enemies and yet it felt so _wrong_. Red stained her hand and midnight sleeves, though her outfit was designed to not show bloodstains. The elf sputtered and coughed and she didn't dare to look into their eyes in case the purple glow had faded and she saw their life drain away.

She tore her knife from the first elf and moved onto the second, slashing through the brunette's neck. She felt the skin peel off and more maroon scattered like rose petals. She sliced clean through their neck and their head rolled lopsidedly to one side. The sight was absolutely disgusting and the smell stung her nostrils and she felt like throwing up. The elf tumbled over onto the ground with a thud.

Her hands shook. She had to keep going. She had to shove her emotions into the deep, dark pits of her mind so she could face the last elf and truly save Callum and Zym. She had to be _strong_, because elves are strong and she needed to protect them so she staggered to her feet. Her vision swam but she kept fighting and fighting because that was what she was meant to do and she had to _save_ them before they _died_ and it was all her fault.

She cried out and sloppily swung her knife at the last elf, but it didn't matter. A spike of ice pushed through their stomach, spilling their blood and guts over the cool surface. She hit the pillar of ice and her blade jammed into the block, but when she tried to yank it out it didn't come with her hand. It slipped through her grasp and stayed embedded in the ice, though she didn't care. The glade went deathly silent. She turned to Callum, who was hugging Zym close to his chest and looking at her with a wide-eyed expression.

He was scared of her, wasn't he? He was terrified that she would hurt him next when she wouldn't; she would _never_, but he didn't know that. She was terrified of herself too; she had just killed someone, and now blood was both literally and figuratively on her hands. She was a _monster_, she was an _assassin_, and she hated it and she hated herself and she wanted to scrub the red of her hands though she felt it would never come off. She had been permanently stained her hands and character.

She almost didn't look back at the two dead elves on the ground. Almost. But Callum's gaze flicked over and she mindlessly followed, too in shock to think about her actions. The black haired elf had a hole over their heart with scarlet and ebony inside it. The purple had indeed faded form their eyes and she could see that they were a stunning dark blue that were wide and lifeless. The other elf was a much worse sight. Their neck was sliced in half and gooey claret sprawled out from the incision. Their head was tilted to the side and hanging on by a small thread of red._She_ had done that. Rayla had killed someone.

She screamed and scrambled backwards, away from the bodies but she hit into the spike of ice and the other dead elf. The spike had torn through their midsection, splattering blood and intestines everywhere, on the ice, on the ground, on themselves. Their head drooped forwards, and their hand flopped over the tip of the ice, as if they had been reaching up with the last of their strength.

She staggered back away from that as well and she tripped, landing on the ground with a thump. She clawed at her hair, weaving cheery streaks into her light locks. She wanted to erase the sight from her memory, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw navy blue exanamite orbs, or the inside of a neck, or the pristine ice stained by vermillion drops. She had caused that. She was a _monster_; Rayla was a _monster_, and she couldn't escape the guilt that chewed through her insides as she thought of the lives those elves had and how the whole village had mourned their supposed passing and now their deaths were a real thing and _she had caused it._

Covered arms circled around her shoulders, and she jerked up, pushing against her attacker with weak hands. "Rayla! It's me, Callum!" The boy said, clinging to her body. She buried her face in his red scarf, like the red spread on the grass around them. He smelled like how she imagined electricity would smell if it had a scent. Wherever she touched him, she felt sparks, but not the good kind. He was embracing her, which meant he hadn't pushed her away; he was staying with her. Her floodgates opened and she sobbed into his chest. She hated herself for thinking of how his heart was right beside her ear and her blade was above them in the chunk of ice and her other one was lying a few feet away from them, and if she needed an escape, she had it. Had she become a monster already?

He combed his fingers through her hair, and she clung to his jacket, pulling him as close to her as she could. She couldn't lose him; he was all she had left. He was her everything. He was the reason she had done what she did, and she reminded herself of how he was worth it and if she hadn't killed the elves, he might not have been enfolding her. He was _worth_ it; he was absolutely, without a doubt, worth it. It didn't make her feel any better, but it did ease the logical part of her mind.

Even with Callum pressed up against her, she felt so _alone_. She was different now, stronger now, but it wasn't necessarily in a good way. She knew she could do it now, if she ever needed to kill anyone again. She didn't want to kill anyone ever again. She didn't even want to go near a blade ever again. She felt like a shell of herself, and she had no one to turn to for guidance. She needed a lighthouse but she had always been the lighthouse, illuminating everyone else's path while she searched for her own. She didn't know what to do now that she was on the boat, blind in the night.

Then Callum grabbed her arm and reminded her, "You're not alone."

Sure, she had him for moral support. Sure, he could help her through her experience from the sidelines, but other than that, there wasn't much he could do. He couldn't expunge her memory; he couldn't change the past and what she had done. He didn't know what it felt like to feel a knife go through someone's body or tear through their neck, and he had _no idea_ how it felt to watch as someone was murdered right in front of him because of himself-

But he _did_. He had watched her slay the other two elves, and he had seen the blonde assassin turn towards her and raise their blade to throw at her. The _ice_. Callum had made the ice. Callum had killed an elf too.

He was... calm. That was the only way she could describe him. His breathing was even and his hands weren't shaking. He didn't seem horrified, maybe disgusted, but he didn't appear to be scared of himself. She supposed her morals were always stronger than other people's, but Callum was surprising indifferent. Perhaps he was keeping up a facade for her, but he hadn't shed a tear or second glance at the dead elves. She needed to be like that; that was the only way she could get past that. She needed to be _strong_ like him, but she couldn't find it in herself.

Rayla was always the protector. She stood up for herself and others with her knifes in her hands and strength in her stance. She had no idea what to do when she had to be the protected. She had never had anyone to rely on before; she had been the one to do things for herself. She didn't know whether it was nice having a shoulder to lean on or nerve wracking to have someone weasel their way into her heart.

Callum later dragged her to her feet once she had calmed down. She blankly stared as he collected the containers of berries into his backpack, and he picked up Zym, who perched on his shoulder and looked around confused. He put a hand on her arm and tried giving her a reassuring smile, a sign he didn't hate her, but she didn't return it. His smile turned sad. He tugged her along by her hand, and they fled the crime scene.

XVI.

They scrambled through the cave, hearing the footsteps of their enemies behind them. Lord Viren had stripped even more people of their humanity, and they were being sent after the pair, who were running for their lives. She tugged Callum along by his hand, guiding them over small rocks and anything that might trip them. Callum illuminated the way with his spell. He had made great strides in his magic, and it was paying off.

The crowd behind them grew larger, and the duo sprinted faster. She could hear Callum running out of breath behind her; she was starting to tire herself. But they pushed on because they knew if they didn't, they would be torn apart. They had discovered the dark people's methods of killing was more _brutal_ than they expected. The ones in the cave had blood lining their teeth, and the pair didn't stick around long enough to find out what exactly they had been eating.

"They're catching up!" Callum yelled.

She spared a glance behind her. The herd of 'darklings' as Callum had dubbed them were closing in, with no weapons other than their sharp jaws and elongated nails. Each of their eyes gleamed the same shade of purple, and they stumbled after them, tripping over themselves in a fight to reach them.

Her one glance doomed them. With neither of them watching where they were going, she missed seeing the drop that was right in their path. She tumbled down first with a gasp and dragged Callum with her. They rolled down the slanted ground and she had to let go of his hand so they didn't break their arms. The breath was stolen from her lungs and her whole body ached by the time she was thrown back onto level ground.

She was put far away from the drop, landing with her back turned to Callum with a thump. Her blades were scattered further down the hallway out of her reach. She groaned.

"Ow," she mumbled, propping herself up. Cuts and bruises lined her body. Her leg and arm burned, and she saw a deep scratch on her forearm, and her knee was banged up. She rubbed her arm and turned around to see how Callum was fairing.

In her haze of pain, she hadn't heard the darklings tumble down after them, nor had she heard their footsteps approach. When she noticed them, they filled half of the tunnel in a tight crowd. Callum was lying on his side, facing her, but he was too far away for her to touch. He was struggling to push himself up. The darklings were closing in on them, and she had no weapon to protect them with, and she wasn't sure her leg could support her weight, not that it would do any good, since the hallway was a dead end.

Callum managed to get himself up onto his elbows, and he turned his head to look behind him. The darklings moved closer and faster, as their food was injured and in plain sight. She was supposed to protect them, to save him, and yet she was lying on the ground clutching her arm, unable to call out for Callum to move. Her weapons were gone, as was her energy, and she wanted to run far, far away and never look back.

But she couldn't. She couldn't escape the cold reality that Callum was going to be _killed_ right in front of her and there was nothing she could do about it. The darklings were getting closer to him, and there was no primal source he could use to get him away. He hadn't mastered Earth magic yet, and there was no other source she could think of that was present. They were screwed, and it was all her fault.

She was supposed to _protect_ him. She was supposed to be strong for him, and yet she wanted to escape and never set foot in a cave ever again. She was a coward, a useless coward, who couldn't save her _family_ and Callum was going to _die_ and _she_ was to blame. She was an utter failure just like her parents. She would never be able to prove herself because there was nothing to prove; she was a _coward_.

Callum turned to look at her. His green orbs were still blinding in the dim light that came from a torch along the wall. "I'm so sorry," he said. His voice didn't shake, no matter how scared he must have felt. She wanted to ask what he was sorry for. _She_ was the one who had gotten them into that mess. "I never wanted you to feel like you were obligated to protect me."

He had said that once. He had told her how he was desperate to not be a burden to her. He didn't want to be dead weight that she was dragging around, or the weak link in their little team. Everyone they had come across in Xadia had thought it. They saw the helpless, short human by her side and labeled him as weak. _'Humans are weak, and elves are strong.' _He didn't want to play into that.

The darklings closed around him in a circle, reaching down with their disgusting arms to take a bite out of him. The light around his face was fading, and soon, her view of him was obstructed. She had failed as a protector, as a partner, as his _family_. He needed her and she had _failed_ him because she was too weak to save him. Somewhere in the pits of her mind, she knew he would be the next to leave her. She didn't expect it to be so sudden; she had believed that she could protect him. Her protection wasn't enough.

"Callum!" She screamed. Rayla was a _failure_. She was a failure, and he was going to _die_ and there was _no one_ to save him and it was _her fault-_

A gleaming, sky blue blade pushed out through the darkling in front of Callum's chest. Red blood spilled out of the wound, and the darklings backed away just enough for her to see.

Callum clenched the sword in his hands and turned on his toes, launching at another darkling behind him. He sliced clean through their head and spun over to the next, swinging his blade. When that one fell, he turned and rammed the sword through another enemy's neck. He twisted and used their head as a stepping stool, and he shot up. His hand glowed purple as an identical sword formed in his hand.

He stabbed through the head he used as a platform and shot forwards, slicing through the enemies like butter. He twirled and his swords cut through anything in his path. He plunged a blade into the head of a darkling and kicked them backwards, freeing his weapon. He cut another in half and ducked down, slicing up through another. He spun and swung in his direction, ripping through the side of one darkling. The monsters fell around him as crimson flew through the air.

A gray arm rolled over to her and stopped when it hit her foot. She drew her attention away from the limb to the shadow in front of her. A darkling loomed over her, but she was too shocked to move. Before it could lean down to devour her, a sword pierced through its neck, and she felt liquid hit her face. It fell before her, revealing Callum, who had blood on his hands and swords in them. She noted how they were sabres, swords made for fencing.

He put a hand on her shoulder and lunged over her, striking through a straggler who had tried to sneak up behind them. He stayed in that position for a while, and she feared he had been frozen. Then, she felt a drop on her cheek. Unsure what it was, she looked up.

"You were right," Callum said slowly. "You said that someday, my magic wouldn't be enough. And you were right."

He peered down at her, and more water hit her cheeks. His eyes were glossy and he was biting his lip. "I never want you to feel like you always have to be strong. I never want you to feel like you're lugging me around and I'm doing nothing, which means you have to protect me. So, I started training."

He closed his eyes, and tears streamed past. They cascaded down his face onto her own. They shared their pain. They saved each other. She should have known he would be strong like that. She had been blinded by the role she needed him to play, and she didn't see that he could protect_her_ when she needed it. She didn't need to know what to do when someone else was giving her guidance, but that was okay because that was the guide's job. She could guide Callum, and he could guide her. She reached up and clasped the hand that was still on her shoulder. He needed to prove himself, and she would be there to support him.

"I never knew my father," he whispered. She hadn't known that. They had never talked much of their parents, since both of them had personal webs to work through. "I found out that he had left me with two swords, the ones I'm holding now. He used them to protect my mother. That's how he died."

He stood tall and pried his sword from the monster it was still impaled in. The person behind her fell to the side. The prince spun on his heel and shielded her from the approaching darklings. His blades were out to his sides, and his posture was strong.

"This time," he started. He pushed his foot backwards into a better fighting stance, and he lifted his heel like she had told him to. He crossed his swords into an 'x' with a _shing_.

"This time, I will protect you!" Callum declared. He shifted his weight onto his back foot, and a blue glow surrounded it. He sprung forwards, and frost was left in his wake. Spikes of ice sprouted from the ground and tore through flesh like he did with his blades.

_'Humans are weak, and elves are strong.' _Their prescribed roles had been reversed. Callum rived through the darklings, and she sat on the ground and watched in both awe and slight disgust. He was still murdering people, but she had as well before, and he was saving her. It wasn't her moral battle have, so instead, she observed the prince. He moved gracefully, like he was dancing. His fighting style looked like art, and he painted a picture with the bodies that fell around him. Rose petals flew through the air, and the blinding white of his swords was quickly becoming covered in cerise. He uttered an incantation and his swords burst into flames, burning away the evidence on them, and the torch went out. He fought like the wind, too fast to catch and too strong to oppose. Callum was a storm.

If humans were weak, how could he be doing that? He spun and sliced and she watched from the side in a daze. Weakness could never translate to _that_. That was power she had never seen. He didn't give any opponent a second glance as he cut them down, and he didn't give any spell he cast a rune or incantation. That was his strength. He stood beside her now.

Or perhaps, he had always stood beside her, and she had never noticed.

He flipped over the fallen bodies, a move she had shown him. He landed in a crouch, swords crossed over his chest, scarf fluttering behind him. He opened his eyes. They were sparkling electric, and she had been shocked. Actual electricity shot out behind him, striking down all the darklings but one.

The poor, poor thing. It staggered towards him, over the bodies of its fallen kind, and Callum didn't show any mercy as he turned and stabbed through its head.

The silence rang out through the hall. The pristine ice melted into pools of water, and the flames that danced around his sword burned out, and the torch relit. Callum turned back towards her, and his swords evaporated into purple stars. Blood was splattered across his face, yet he still managed to look beautiful in her eyes. His strength only made him _more_ beautiful to her.

What did Callum's strength mean to her? Now, she knew she had someone to fall back on, someone who would pick her up when she fell down, someone capable of protecting her when she couldn't. She could trust that Callum would be safe no matter where he went and where she was. Worry was lifted off her shoulders.

She wasn't sure whether to feel weaker or stronger. She had an extremely powerful ally by her side, who would protect her and fight with her, but at that same time, she felt as if she were falling behind. Would Callum leave her in the dust?

He reached out a bloody hand, and she made a decision.

It didn't make her weak to be protected. Showing fear and doubt only made her _stronger_. It meant she could question what was suspicious and have the confidence to stand against it. She had someone who would pick up the pieces of her battles if she failed, which only meant she had double power on her side. She didn't always have to be strong, just like Callum didn't always have to be weak. Humans could be just as strong as elves.

She put her hand in his, and Rayla allowed Callum to help her stand.

XVII.

Rayla didn't dream often. She had been trained to sleep light in case an attacker came along during the night. She had to be ready to spring into action immediately should something like that occur. It was rare that she ever fell deep enough into sleep to dream.

That night was different. Callum had offered to stay up on watch while she rested after the events a few days ago, when they had run through the caves and he had shown a side of him she hadn't known about.

The usual blackness in her dreams swirled into colors, creating a spiral of pinks, purples, and greens. She was standing on an invisible floor clad in her usual gear. There was no wind, no sound, just her on an empty plane. She looked around, taking it all in.

She heard a whoosh coming from her left. She whipped her head to face that direction and instinctively reached for her blades. Her heart stopped at the sight in front of her.

It was _Runaan_. His hair was messy and he was ruffed up. He had minor cuts and bruises all along his body, and the white ribbon tied around his upper arm was causing his arm below it to be a brilliant shade of purple. He looked tired and disappointed in her.

"Runaan," she breathed, reaching out with a hand.

His gaze pierced her heart. "Rayla." His voice wasn't soft like it had been back in her youth. He was using the tone he used with his victims, cold and commanding. Fear stuck her, and she felt guilty for being scared of him, because it was _Runaan_. He may have fought her before, but he was still her caretaker, still practically her father. He was her only real family left.

She gulped, and her throat ran dry. "The others..."

He didn't spare her feelings by sugarcoating it. "They're dead."

_No_. She hadn't thought much about her team; she had assumed they had all gotten out of the castle alright. They couldn't be...

She really _had_ gotten them all killed. It was her fault. She should've struck down the guard and done her job like she was supposed to; instead, she had broke her oath to Xadia and ran from her problems. She was a coward, a weakling, and it had gotten others hurt and it was all _her fault_.

"I..." She had no words. Nothing could convey the _guilt_ she felt, although she hadn't known her team well. That was why she didn't get attached. Everyone left her in the end. First her parents, then Runaan, then Ezran. Who would be next?

"Humans are weak," Runaan reminded, "and elves are strong. You are being too human. If you continue down this path, only terrible things can come out of this."

Her path was being a protector. She stood before her family and friends with her swords by her side, and she sliced through her enemies like they were butter. She slashed and stabbed all while guiding others to the light. That was what Rayla was made to do. She didn't kill for fun; she struggled for other people. Everything she went through was all for someone else; she went on her journey to return Zym and promote peace; she struck down the two dark elves to protect Callum from an untimely demise. It was always for other people.

She considered that a good thing. Her morals let her show compassion and empathy, and they never let her stray too far into the dark. Though, they had been weakened. She had used them as her harness, but they had nearly given up on her and let her free fall. She had managed to stay aloft because she had to be strong for Callum and Zym. She had to stay strong so they could finish their mission and get the Dragon Prince back to his mother. Her morals loosening didn't change their mission. Her emotions tearing her apart didn't change their mission.

Runaan drew his bow, the one he always kept on his back. He seemed to have it on him in her dreamscape. He summoned an arrow and nocked it, pulling the drawstring back. "As your mentor and caretaker, I cannot allow you to continue down the wrong path."

She huffed. "And you criticized me for always fighting through my problems."

He shot an arrow, and she sidestepped out of the way. He aimed again and she flipped to the right. Arrow after arrow, dodge after dodge, their battle became a dance, and it was one she was skilled at.

At last, Runaan morphed his bow into his twin swords. He charged at her and she jumped over his head and used his skull to push her to the other side of him. He spun on his heel and swiped, and she ducked under. He swung again and she lunged backwards. He continued slicing and she grew weary, but she didn't draw her blades. She did not want to fight him if she could avoid it.

"Are you afraid?" He asked at last, pausing his attacks for a moment. Rayla pondered. If she was afraid, what was she scared of?

"Why would I be afraid?" She countered.

"You haven't drawn your weapons," Runaan pointed out. "You are intentionally putting yourself at a disadvantage. Why?"

Why didn't she fight against using her knifes? She supposed she _was_ afraid. She was terrified of having to hurt Runaan, terrified of having to kill again, terrified of going through emotional torture _again_. She could still feel the guilt, the dried blood in her hair, the feeling of her knife driving into the elf's chest. So instead of letting it wash over her, she fought against it. She avoided feeling it again by any means necessary.

Runaan ran at her again and she moved out of his way. He spun and sliced with his blade and she curled under it and sprung up. Using her momentum, she flung herself into his arm in hopes of him dropping his blade. Instead, he pressed against her and kneed her in the stomach. She staggered backwards, and he slashed at her and cut the bridge of her nose. He then tripped her using his foot.

She collapsed onto her back. He put his foot on her throat, and what little air she had was squeezed out. She gasped for breath, and she had bug-eyes.

"Draw your blades!" Runaan commanded. "Fight me like an elf! You are being a coward!"

Rayla had developed a habit of running from her problems. She couldn't bear to stay around and watch everything fall apart, so she left her issues behind and turned the opposite direction. When she said she wouldn't run anymore, she had started bottling up her emotions and exploded when it became to much on her shoulders. More weight came crashing down, and she didn't have the power to hold tough so she ran. She ran and ran because that was all she could do, and she hoped no one would notice.

But Runaan would not break her will. No one would break her will, not then, not ever. She would hold firm even if it hurt and it _hurt, _and she wanted to fight against Runaan but then she would have to bear more weight and she _couldn't_.

He sneered, looking down on her. She gagged and sputtered. "You want to show who you are? This is not proving yourself. This is giving into everyone's views. Don't be weak like they think you are, Rayla. You are acting just like your _parents_!"

'_You are acting just like your parents!'_

That echoed through her mind. Her parents were cowards who betrayed their land and family by abandoning their duty. They left her on the side of the road and tainted her name. Nobody believed in her because of them. Nobody trusted her because of them. She had to go against them so that they saw past her parents and saw _her_. She _had_ to prove that she wasn't her parents because how else would people see that she was _Rayla_?

She was _Rayla_. Rayla, who had confidence and arrogance and skills to back it up. Rayla, who scoured a mountain to follow what she thought was right. Rayla, who fell for a prince like a prissy princess, except she was a knight in blue armor. Rayla, who cared for and protected and _loved_ two humans and a baby dragon. She was moral, not a betrayer. She was brave, not craven. She was _Rayla_, not her parents.

Why had she never seen that? She didn't need to prove her worth, because her actions spoke loud enough. She didn't need to clear her name, because her name was never the one that was tainted. She didn't need to bypass her parents, because _she wasn't them_. She was her own person with her own desires and her own beliefs and her own deeds. She didn't have to take on the burden her parents had left behind because _their_betrayal wasn't _her_ betrayal. Rayla never was and never had been her parents.

Her knife flicked open, and she slashed through Runaan's boot. He drew his foot back and she knocked him off balance, sending him rolling. He popped back up just as she did, and they charged at the same time.

She swung first and struck metal. He swung back and struck air. They clashed and clanged and swiped and dodged. She flipped over his shoulder and he kicked her before she could land. He did a handspring back and she knocked his legs out from under him. They reached a stalemate because neither was more powerful than the other. If she landed a hit, he landed one a second later. If he missed, she hit air in her next attack. It droned on and on and became a repeated routine.

At least, until Runaan changed his approach. He stabbed at her chest and head, aiming to cut her into pieces. She went more and more on the defensive, eluding and blocking his strikes. One of his strikes was too quick for her to block, and he slashed into her arm, taking a chunk of skin off. It burned like a fire, and red dropped down her arm. It didn't hinder her as much as it should've, however, seeing as how their whole battle was taking place in a dream.

They separated and circled around each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. "Are your morals hindering you from fighting properly?" Runaan mocked. "Or has your skill level dropped while you relied on other people?"

"Have you forgotten who your fighting?" She replied, grinding her teeth. "Or do all those years you took care of me mean nothing to you?"

He growled at that, and launched at her. She dug her legs into the ground and met his strike, forcing her blades against his own. They struggled against each other before she dropped under him, sliding beside him and standing. She struck his bare back, leaving a cut that spanned across his entire backside. He hissed, and she jumped to avoid his next strike.

"How kind of you," he said, "to only leave a shallow cut. You could've made it deeper."

"I didn't want to." She flipped backwards and avoided his sword. They danced around each other for a while. He slashed and she hindered; she swung and he evaded. She aimed a kick at his head and he caught her foot. He spun and threw her to the ground on her front. She heard a crack in her left wrist, and pain shot through her arm like lightning.

She groaned, and flipped over to kick her opponent in the chest. He staggered back and she took her time standing up. Her wrist hurt to bend so she let it flop to the side. She flicked her blade back into its hilt and clipped it onto her belt. As Runaan recovered, she readied her other weapon.

"Why do you hold back?" Runaan questioned, as she tumbled over his strike.

"I only have one working hand," she answered, slashing with her right and hitting the metal of Runaan's sword.

He sighed and rephrased, "Why are you not attacking me like you _mean_ it?"

She blocked his blow and ducked under his arm. "I don't want to actually _hurt_ you, you know. I have some decency."

He parried her strike. "What happens when your opponent doesn't hold back but you do? What happens when you're not strong enough with your morals in the way?"

"My morals are not in the way!" She yelled.

"Yes, they are!" He argued, slicing forwards and striking nothing. "You have been spending too much time with the humans, and it is making you soft. Humans are weaklings who need to be weeded out. Why are you becoming one?!"

She leapt over his sword and dove into a roll. Popping back up, she struck into Runaan's blade. "You are going down the wrong path!" He continued.

"You don't get to choose my path for me, Runaan!" She exclaimed, dodging his blade. "I get to make that decision!"

"Then decide," Runaan said. He charged at her, and she pressed her blade into his. It was a battle for dominance, and Runaan was going to win. He pushed her back and she stumbled, and he kicked her in the stomach. She and her blade were sent flying, and she hit the ground with a thud. Her blade buried itself in the ground in front of her. Everything hurt. She burned with every movement.

"Humans are weak, and elves are strong!" Runaan declared. He point his blade at her. "There are two paths, the light and the dark. Which will you choose? Wrong or right? Weak or strong? Human or elf?"

'_Humans are weak, and elves are strong_.' That was the mantra her people desperately relied on; they clung to it like a child would cling to their mother. That was their reasoning for exiling all humans from Xadia, therefore starting the war she was trying so hard to fix. The belief was that elves were above all else, powerful and kind, wise and mighty. They lived alongside life and never stole from it. They only struck down those who dared to challenge them. Humans were cowards who took from life because they took it for granted. They looted and plundered, eliminating all foes in the way of their selfish goals. They were greedy and savage, unforgiving and ruinous.

But that was not true. Elves could be brutal and ruthless, stopping at nothing to get what they wanted. They hid behind a belief that was built on lies and desperation. They could cry and mourn and fail. They could break down, panic, and fall. Elves could be weak. Humans could be caring and generous. They could be trusting and loving. They were concerned about their loved ones, and they were protective of their friends. They held relationships and trusted; they lived lives, just like she did. Humans could be strong.

What was strength? What was weakness? Where did the difference lie? Everyone's definition of the concept of 'strength' and 'weakness' was unique. Some could say strength is the ability to slay a dragon. Others could say its the willingness to let someone into their heart. Some would call that weakness. Others would call weakness being frail and helpless. What was true strength? What was true weakness? Which one was good, and which one was bad? Which one was human, and which one was elven?

That was it. _Neither_ were human nor elven, because _both parties felt both. _True strength was the ability to get back up after troubles, even in their darkest hour. True strength was the power to let others in beyond their walls, and show mutual respect and trust for them. True weakness was allowing oneself to lean on someone's shoulder, to lay down their armor and have faith in one another. Strength and weakness were yin and yang; neither could exist without the other. True strength came from weakness.

The only difference between human and elf was their names. She was no less of an elf by having humanity. Her morality only made her stronger, and that was what Runaan didn't see. That was what the world didn't understand. Elf and human were one in the same, yin and yang; neither could exist without the other. Humans are weak, and elves are strong, but elves can be weak, and humans can be strong.

She shoved herself onto her elbows, and reached for her knife. She drove her blade into the ground and used the force to push herself up. True strength was coming out on top despite the odds. True strength was pushing through her challenges and overcoming them. Rayla was strong.

"That's what you don't understand," Rayla said. She gazed up at him, head tilted, eyes closed, and tears streaming down her face. "There is no difference."

She did not charge at him again. She did not fight him. She pried her blade from the ground and flipped it back into its hilt, and then she dropped it. The clang rang out like a bell.

It was silent for a while after that. She opened her eyes to see Runaan. He peered down at her with a stone cold expression on his face, but his eyes held a certain wistfulness. "You are naive."

"No," she countered. "You are close minded."

He went silent at that. She continued, "Strength and weakness are constructs, and neither one has a clear definition. You cannot assign one to humans and one to elves, because they are both the _same_. _Humans_ and _elves_ are both the same. We both fight for our lives, we both have families and friends and others we can rely on, we both just want to survive another day. 'Human' and 'elf' are nothing more than labels we use to separate us, when we should be bringing us together because _we are all people."_

Rayla pulled herself to sit on her knees. She chuckled sadly. "I don't know why I was so blind. I've been blind all my life, and now that I've taken the blindfold off, I can finally see.

"There is so much I do not understand. There is so much to be resolved. But hear me when I say this.

"'Humans are weak, and elves are strong' is not a mantra. It is not a belief, and it is not a fact." Her eyes held fire, and she raised her voice. "It's an excuse! Elves are against cowards, and yet they hide behind a flimsy justification to save their skins from seeing what's right in front of their eyes! Don't you see, Runaan? Look beyond the pride that has been woven into your mind, and view the truth. My humanity doesn't make me any less of an elf, because being 'human' is a construct!

"If my morals make me human, then so be it. It doesn't matter, because there is _no difference_ between human and elf. Wrong or right, weak or strong, it does not matter. I have and always will be both."

He was quiet. She was quiet. Her monologue had rendered him speechless, and she had nothing more to say. Finally, Runaan lowered his weapon to rest by his side. Then, with a blue glow, he burst into confetti and danced away.

'Humans are weak, and elves are strong.' That was a joke. Humans celebrated and laughed and jived. Elves wrecked and heisted and slaughtered. Humans threw their arms around their loved ones to shield them. Elves tore down shields and destroyed what lie behind. Humans clawed their way to the top through hard work and achievement. Elves annihilated the threats that blocked and threatened them. Wrong and right. Weak and strong. Human and elf. _People_.

What was human, and what was elf? Nothing. Nothing could be defined solely as elven or human. They both were destructive. They both were considerate. They both were noble. They both were strong, and they both were weak. True strength was recognizing that there was no difference. True strength was tearing down that line and the belief that there should be a divide between them. True strength was accepting that fear and obstacles would come their way, and that they could overcome it and have the audacity to smile after.

For years, she and her mentors had argued whether her morals made her strong or weak. There had never been a clear answer. She had to decide, one or the other, what would they be to her? Would they be her greatest motivator or Achilles' heel? Would they be her drive to succeed or willingness to fail? Would they be her strength or her weakness?

But what she had never saw was that _there was no answer. _Morals or not, she would always be both strong and weak. She didn't need to choose one because no matter what, she would be _both_. There was no escaping weakness. There was no escaping pain. There was only giving in or pressing through, and _that_ was what she could decide.

More problems would come later. There was still so much to fix, the dark people, the tensions between humans and Xadia, her own struggles to find her place in the world. But for once, she felt solace. Whatever came her way, she could push through and land on top. She would lead herself and whoever stood beside her to victory, and at the end, she would wear a smile brighter than the sun because no matter her failures, she had won._That_ was her strength.

True strength comes from weakness.

And Rayla is truly _strong_.


End file.
